


Stasis

by argentoswan



Category: The Book of Mormon - Parker/Stone/Lopez
Genre: Angst, Arnold and Nabulungi are cute, Connor's an idiot, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Kevin's moody, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-11
Updated: 2018-04-22
Packaged: 2019-04-21 09:10:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 25,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14281656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/argentoswan/pseuds/argentoswan
Summary: Kevin struggles to find his place amongst the Elders of the Ugandan mission. Elder Mckinley tries to help him.“Are you sure you want to be my friend?” Kevin asked doubtfully.“Well,” Elder Mckinley said. “You have an attitude problem. You don’t like talking to other people or being part of a team, and you seem to have made it your new mission to break every rule the church has given us, which I can’t officially support.”“Thanks.”





	1. Chapter 1

**stasis: a period or state of inactivity or equilibrium**

I

Kevin was out of hair gel. His parents had stopped sending him care packages and he had known that his supply would run out eventually. But somehow he had managed to convince himself that he would never have to confront this day.

He looked at his own reflection in the mirror. He hadn’t bothered cutting his hair in the past few weeks, and it was much longer than he’d ever let it grow out. He had managed to hide that, mostly, by smoothing it back carefully and fluffing it so it curled perfectly backwards. It was the only thing about his appearance that managed to hold up in the Ugandan heat, and now he didn’t even have that.

Someone knocked on the bathroom door, reminding Kevin that he was sharing with nine other boys. He frowned into the mirror and screwed the lid back onto the empty bottle.

“Good morning, Elder Price!” Elder Thomas chirped as Kevin slipped past him in the hallway.

Kevin gave him a strained smile and kept walking. “Good morning, Elder Thomas.”

Arnold was in their room when Kevin walked back in. He was sitting cross-legged on his bed and barely looked up from the notebook he was writing in as he said, “G’morning.”

“Morning,” Kevin said. He fell back against his own pillows, dropping the empty hair gel bottle onto his bedside table. He and Arnold had pushed their beds so closely together that there were only inches separating them, a gap which he bridged easily to lean over and peek at Arnold’s notebook. “What are you writing?”

“I’m trying to write Nabulungi a poem,” Arnold said. “I don’t know if it’s going that well.”

“Nonsense,” Kevin said. “You wrote the Book of Arnold, didn’t you? How hard can some poems be?”

Arnold offered the notebook. Kevin took it and squinted at Arnold’s messy handwriting, reading it slowly out loud. “Roses are red, violets are blue. Uganda is hot, and so are you.” He looked at Arnold, who was chewing nervously on the top of his pen.

“Is it bad?” Arnold asked.

“No,” Kevin said carefully, not wanting to discourage his friend. “But maybe you can make it… a little bit longer?”

“You think?” Arnold took the notebook back. “I mean, I have so many ideas and so much to write about her, of course, because she’s beautiful and amazing and incredible, but every time I try to put together a poem about her it just falls apart.”

“She’ll love anything you give her, Arnold.”

Arnold beamed at him, and Kevin’s heart soared. He knew how happy Nabulungi made him, and it made Kevin happy to see Arnold in such a good relationship. In just a few short months Arnold had become his closest friend - and it wasn’t just because of the adoration that Arnold held for Kevin, either. It was because of his energy, and the way he could always make Kevin smile even when he felt like crawling underneath his bed and letting the spiders there eat him (something the villagers had warned him could happen). Arnold supported him endlessly. Kevin didn’t quite understand why.

“What’s wrong with your hair?” Arnold asked with a frown.

Kevin reached up and felt it. “Why, does it look bad?”

“No,” Arnold said, looking at it thoughtfully. “You look less pretentious.”

“You know, Arnold, just because I told you to cut back on the fibbing, it doesn’t mean you have to be completely honest with me.”

Arnold grinned. “Sorry. Let’s go get some breakfast. I’m starving.”

Arnold tucked his notebook under his arm and the pen behind his ear as he marched out. Before Kevin followed him he hesitated, wondering if he should grab his tie from where he had slung it across the room in a fit of irritation last week. He hadn’t worn it since-- he was the first of the Elders to shed the most integral aspect of their uniform, and he had received his fair share of reproachful looks for it-- but he wondered if now, with his hair gone flat, he should put it back on to make himself look more put together. The idea of knotting that thing around his neck, however, made his chest tighten. Besides, it was hot enough without it. He left it behind.

The other Elders were spread throughout the kitchen and living room. Most of them looked as tired as Kevin felt. Elder Michaels and Elder Church were seated at the kitchen table with a piece of toast each, taking turns rolling a die. Kevin wasn’t quite sure what game they were playing, but they looked engrossed with it. Elder Neeley was slumped over on the sofa, not exactly dozing off but very close to it. Elder Zelder was seated next to him, staring blankly at nothing in particular.

The only source of energy came from the kitchen, where Elder Mckinley was flitting around with a full loaf of bread and a butter knife. His red hair was carefully brushed and parted, his shirt looked freshly ironed, and he looked as put together as always when he saw beamed at Kevin and Arnold. He had probably even brushed his teeth. Kevin rarely had the energy for that anymore. “Good morning, Elder Cunningham! Elder Price!”

“Good morning, Elder Mckinley!” Arnold said, bouncing a little bit on his toes. Kevin just yawned and trailed after Arnold to the kitchen table, taking the empty seat next to him.

“Good morning,” Arnold said to Elder Michaels and Elder Church. The two grinned at Arnold before going back to rolling their die.

Kevin crossed his arms, and then felt awkward about it and uncrossed them. He watched Arnold open his notebook and start writing again, leaving Kevin to try not to stare too hard at any one Elder and look as though he wasn’t bored. It was hard when all Kevin could think about was how, technically speaking, he could still be in bed right now. He yawned again. God, Kevin wished that he was still in bed.

“Here you are, Elder Price.” Kevin blinked as a plate carrying a piece of toast slid in front of him, and then looked up at Elder Mckinley. The red-headed district leader smiled down at Kevin, his freckles dimpled at the edges of his lips. He was still holding the dirty butter knife in a way that was mildly threatening when coupled with his buoyant mood.

“Thank you, Elder Mckinley,” Kevin said, “but you didn’t have to do that.”

“It’s no problem at all!” Elder Mckinley said. “We have a long day ahead of us. I have to make sure that everyone has eaten enough!”

Kevin watched him turn and walk back into the kitchen. Kevin hadn’t quite figured out the source of Elder Mckinley’s energy yet. Arnold’s, he knew, was innate, driven by his own brand of self-assurance. Elder Thomas was dangerously sensitive to sugar rushes. Kevin, lately, found that he could only feign motivation after he snuck off for a clandestine cup of coffee by himself or with Nabulungi. In contrast, Elder Mckinley’s energy was unprecedented.

He certainly had a lot of it, however.

Arnold was munching away at his own piece of toast and scribbling furiously at his poetry. Kevin was glad that he had more than four lines now. He tore off a piece of his own crust and popped it in his mouth. It was dry, too dry to be enjoyable. Logically Kevin knew that he could just go and grab a cup of water, but he really wasn’t that hungry, anyways. He contented himself instead with watching Arnold write. His chicken scratch handwriting was strangely calming.

“Elder Price?”

Kevin looked up again. Elder Mckinley was there once more, smiling, and Kevin felt an itch of irritation at his ever-constant sunshine. At least he had put the butter knife down. “What?”

“You haven’t eaten your toast.”

“I’m not hungry.”

Elder Mckinley’s smile died just a bit. “We’re going to be working on the church today,” he said. “You should eat something.”

“I said I’m not hungry,” Kevin said. He knew that Elder Church and Elder Michaels were both looking at him. Arnold, oblivious, continued writing.

“Alright,” Elder Mckinley said, refusing to rise to Kevin’s bait. “Would you help me with the dishes?”

Kevin didn’t want to, but even he knew that it would be too rude to refuse. He stood, picking up his own plate and Arnold’s empty one, and followed Elder Mckinley to the kitchen. He didn’t look at Elder Michaels or Elder Church.

A stack of dishes was floating in the sink, and Kevin wondered how a group of boys who had eaten nothing but toast that morning had accumulated so many dishes. Elder Mckinley led him over and said, “I’ll wash, you dry?”

Kevin wordlessly picked up a dish towel and watched Elder Mckinley roll up his sleeves and plunge his freckled arms into the soapy water. He started scrubbing at them with a sponge, unperturbed by the soggy crumbs and the sitting water.

Elder Mckinley handed him the washed plate. “Your hair is different,” he said. He looked up at it, and Kevin felt heat creeping up his neck, and that new irritation that seemed to flare up every few minutes in Africa. Kevin had rarely even allowed himself to get annoyed back home. Now it seemed that everything upset him.

“Yeah.”

Kevin reached out and took the plate from Elder Mckinley’s hands before it was fully cleaned, trying to ward off further discussion before the inevitable comment. _The great Elder Price looks less than perfect today._ It was a new favorite phrase for the Elders of the Ugandan mission. Sometimes Kevin got the luxury of hearing it said to his face, and not whispered behind his back in a crowded room.

Elder Mckinley looked at him again, brow pursed thoughtfully, and said, “It looks nice.”

Kevin’s hands paused on the plate as the heat moved from his neck to his cheeks, and god, if he was blushing he was going to punch someone (Elder Mckinley) in the face. He didn’t have a response to his compliment, so he just said “hmm” and kept drying.

He didn’t want Elder Mckinley to say anything else, and luckily he didn’t. They made fast work of the plates and then Elder Mckinley beamed at him and said, “Let’s go build a church!”

Kevin, still holding the damp towel, watched him walk away. He was used to compliments- had come to expect them, in fact- but he felt unseated by Elder Mckinley’s. Maybe it was because Elder Mckinley was a boy, and boys usually didn’t comment on Kevin’s appearance. Or maybe it was because it was one of the first compliments Kevin had received in the past few weeks that hadn’t felt like a backhanded insult.

Kevin reached up and ruffled his hair, hoping to at least give it some volume. He could make do without the hair gel.

X X X X X

Kevin spent his break under the shade of a kalangala tree with Nabulungi. The Elders were hard at work constructing a church for the village- an ambitious project, but they had nearly a year and a half to see it through to the end. They took breaks in turns, one by one ducking out to drink their fill of water and rest for twenty minutes before it was time to go back to work.

Kevin had been the last one to get a break, and he could feel it in the strain of his shoulder muscles. He moaned and leaned his head back, lying spread-eagled on the cool grass. Nabulungi gazed down at him without sympathy.

“Stop it,” she said. “You are fine. Physical labor has not hurt anyone yet.”

“I don’t see why I’m always the last one to get a break,” Kevin muttered. He stared up at the tree canopy overhead and squinted at the sun filtering through the leaves. That was a lie. He knew why he had gotten the last break- he was the least liked, and the last thought of.

“You are closer to the end of the day now.”

“I guess,” Kevin said. He closed his eyes and tried to let the heat seep from his muscles. He had done track and field in high school for two years before he had become too busy with the church, and the burn he felt in his calves reminded him of those long practices. He missed it sometimes. Even now, in the Ugandan heat, he felt a self-satisfied buzz from the physical exertion.

A pressure on his head made him flinch, but when he opened his eyes again it was just Nabulungi. She was staring at the working Elders, one hand coming idly down to comb through Kevin’s hair with her fingers. Kevin didn’t say anything.

“That boy,” she said. “He is looking over here again.”

“Arnold?” Kevin asked, shutting his eyes again as Nabulungi’s fingers lulled him into peace.

“No,” Nabulungi said. “Arnold has been whacking the same piece of wood with a hammer for thirty minutes now. It is that boy with the red hair. Elder Mckinley.”

Kevin sighed. “I’m probably breaking a rule.”

“I do not think so,” Nabulungi said. “He is just looking at you.”

“Maybe he’s looking at you.”

Nabulungi snorted. “He is not looking at me, dumb dumb.”

Kevin didn’t know what that meant, but Nabulungi’s fingers felt so good on his scalp that he let it go.

“He is a nice boy,” Nabulungi said after a minute.

“He’s fine, I guess,” Kevin said.

“You are all nice boys,” Nabulungi said. “All of you Mormons.”

“Except for me, you mean,” Kevin said, his lips quirking.

He opened his eyes when Nabulungi’s fingers paused. Immediately missing her touch, he squinted up at her with a scowl. She frowned at him.

“You are a very nice boy, Kevin Price,” Nabulungi said. “A very stupid boy, yes, but you are also very nice.”

Kevin knew there was no point in arguing with Nabulungi, so he just nodded and hoped that she would continue rubbing his head. She was apparently displeased with his response, however, if her pursed lips said anything about it.

Kevin sighed and pushed himself up into a sitting position. He rested his chin on his fist and stared out at the building site. The Elders were hard at work hammering and sawing and trying their best to make it look like they knew what they were doing, and it seemed like they were doing a good job of fooling everyone so far.

As he moved his gaze away from Arnold, who was sitting cross legged on the ground hammering a block of wood that wasn’t attached to anything else with a very serious expression, Kevin locked eyes with Elder Mckinley. The other boy was standing at a work table, saw in hand, and he was staring straight at Kevin, just as Nabulungi had said.

Kevin was fairly confident that he wasn’t breaking any rules, but lately it seemed that Kevin couldn’t do anything without disrespecting the word of God. The other Elders constantly commented on him not wearing his full uniform or smuggling coffee into the house or using the holy text as a coaster. He was sick of it.

He scowled at Elder Mckinley. Elder Mckinley’s expression was hard to read from this far away, but Kevin thought he saw a quizzical look cross his face before he turned back to his sawing.

Good. Maybe now he would stop staring.

“Oh, Kevin Price,” Nabulungi said, and Kevin turned to find her looking at him with a small smile. “You really are stupid, aren’t you?”

“What?”

Nabulungi shook her head and knocked his shoulder with her own. “Nothing,” she said.

X X X X X

Elder Mckinley loved group bonding nights.

Kevin hated them.

Long ago he had been as much a sucker for a nice round of Youth Trivia as the next guy had, but now whenever someone found a new board game at the market and Elder Mckinley announced that they were going to have a game night, Kevin just rolled his eyes.

Normally Arnold would sit in the corner with him and listen to him mutter obscenities to help pass the time, but tonight they were playing an ancient game of Chutes and Ladders that Elder Neeley had found, and Arnold was _way_ too into it. There were only four game pieces, so the Elders took turns, three new ones hopping in to play the winner of the previous game every time the round ended.

Arnold had been reigning champion for the past four games.

Kevin sat on the furthest armchair away from the group gathered around the coffee table. He was tired, and he wanted to go to bed, but Elder Mckinley would pitch a hissy fit if he tried to leave, and Arnold would be sad. So he sat there, nursing a box of apple juice and scowling at nobody in particular. Every so often Arnold would look over his shoulder and beam at Kevin, and Kevin would hurriedly paste a smile onto his face that fell as soon as Arnold turned back to the game.

The Elders cheered about something, and Elder Thomas groaned loudly as Arnold leaned forward and moved his piece. Kevin watched, unimpressed, and then took a long sip of his juice box.

“You could always suck it up and play a game,” said a voice in his ear. It was Elder Mckinley. Kevin frowned at him. He could have sworn he had been sitting with the group just seconds ago.

“I’m drinking my juice,” Kevin said, and then pointedly sucked loudly on the straw.

Elder Mckinley dropped his eyes to the juicebox, lips pursed. When he looked back at Kevin there was something displeased about his expression that had never been there before, and Kevin wondered if this was the night that Elder Mckinley broke and finally snapped at Kevin.

“You’re acting like a child, you know,” Elder Mckinley said.

Kevin bristled. “Excuse me?”

“I know things have been hard for you in Uganda. It’s been hard for all of us. You could always talk about it.”

“I’m sorry, weren’t you the one who told us to turn our feelings off?”

Elder Mckinley looked a little sad at that. “We don’t do that anymore.”

“Why don’t you tell me about your problems, then? If we’re all so open now?”

“You’re changing the subject, Elder Price.”

Kevin took another drink of his apple juice and glared moodily across the room at the Chutes and Ladders game. “Are you telling me that I have to play?”

“I’m _asking_ you to play,” Elder Mckinley corrected. “You don’t have to do anything.”

“Fine,” Kevin said. “Then I’m going to sit over here and drink my juice. Alone.”

Elder Mckinley let out a huff of air, eyebrows crumpling, and it _thrilled_ Kevin to knock the smile off of his face, and that made Kevin realize that he was a miserable person. “You’re doing this to yourself, you know,” Elder Mckinley said.

“Doing what?”

“This whole self-isolation narrative you’ve written for yourself.”

“Excuse me,” Kevin said, “but I don’t think it’s any of your business what _narrative_ I’ve written. Whatever that means.”

“I’m the district leader.”

“We’re not a district anymore.”

“Elder Price, I’m only trying to help you.”

“Well, don’t.” Kevin stood up. “The only thing I want to turn off around here, Elder Mckinley, is your fucking interest in my life.”

He was face to face with him now, so close that their noses could touch easily, so close that Kevin could see the dark freckle under Elder Mckinley’s right eye. He knew the other Elders were watching them, waiting for a further outburst from Kevin. Kevin was half-inclined to give it to them, to give them all what they’d been waiting for- a complete, bona fide Elder Price meltdown. But that would ruin Arnold’s night. Kevin grit his teeth and took a step away from Elder Mckinley.

“I’m going to bed,” he announced. “If that’s alright with you, _district leader_.”  
He stomped across the room towards the hallway. The room was silent. His face burned but he held it high, noot stopping until he reached his bedroom, threw himself in, and slammed the door behind him.

He had the childish urge to throw something. Kevin walked over to Arnold’s bed and fell on it, reaching up to grip his hair and pulling until it hurt. He remembered Nabulungi with her hand on his head, petting him like she would a cat, and Kevin should be embarrassed by the memory but it just made his chest hurt.

The telltale creak of old hinges told him that the bedroom door was opening. It closed a moment later, and Kevin let go of his hair and looked up to see Arnold edging his way into the room, a cautious look on his face.

“What are you doing here?” Kevin asked, and he didn’t mean for his voice to come out that small.

“I came to check on you,” Arnold said.

“But you were winning.”

Arnold shrugged. “I can win another time.”

Kevin laid back on the bed and let Arnold walk over and sit next to him, his weight dipping the mattress beside Kevin. For a few minutes, neither of them moved.

“You really should be nicer to Elder Mckinley,” Arnold said. “He’s only trying to help.”

“He’s not helping.”

“I think he knows that now.”

“Is everyone out there talking about me?”

“No. Elder Church tried to say something, but Elder Mckinley said it was none of their business.”

“Well, it isn’t,” Kevin muttered.

Arnold sighed. “Kevin,” he said, “you know that you’re my best friend, right?”

Kevin swallowed, because sometimes it was still hard for him to believe that. Arnold was his best friend. That he had no doubt about. Arnold could do much, much better, though.

“Kevin?”

“Yes, Arnold. I know.”

“Best friends talk to each other, right?”

“I guess.”

He knew Arnold was watching him. Kevin felt as though he was under a microscopic, one of the ones that his ninth grade science teachers had used. It made Kevin feel small and scrutinized.

“I want to leave,” he blurted out, because he knew that Arnold wasn’t going to say anything until he did.

He didn’t want to look at the hurt expression on Arnold’s face. “You want to leave Uganda?”

“Yes,” Kevin said. And then, “No.”

“No?”

“I don’t… ugh.” Kevin put his hands over his eyes and tried to sort through his muddled thoughts. “I want… I like being here. I like the sun and the coffee and I like not having to wear a tie and I like Nabulungi and the all the villagers and I really, really like you, Arnold, I promise that I do. But I…”

“Are you homesick?”

“My parents haven’t spoken to me since they told me I was no longer a Price if I didn’t come home and rejoin the church,” Kevin said. “No, I’m not homesick.”

“Kevin…”

“I won’t do it. I won’t rejoin the church.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I won’t go home, either, not if they don’t want me.”

“You don’t have to do that, either.”

“I won’t… Arnold, I have nowhere to go. I won’t go home, but I haven’t got any money. I can’t _not_ go home, but they don’t want me home, nobody wants me, I’ll have to- to-”

“Kevin,” Arnold said, “stop. I’ve already thought about that.”

Kevin lowered his hands and looked up at Arnold, at his frizzy hair and his glasses and his earnest, worried expression. “What?”

“I figured that you and I would live together,” Arnold said. “You know, get an apartment near my parents and try to get jobs. Maybe go to school. I’ve already talked to my mom and dad about it, they think it’s a great plan. They’ll help us out until we have enough money to support ourselves.”

“You… want to live with me?”

“Of course!” Arnold grinned at him, and that goofy smile made Kevin’s throat close up. “It’ll be fun. We can stay up all night and talk and make pancakes and watch all kinds of movies. I can’t believe you’ve never seen Star Wars. That’s the first thing we’re going to do when we go home.”

“You would do that for me?”  
“Don’t act like I’m doing something charitable,” Arnold said. “What guy wouldn’t want to live with his best friend? It’ll be fun.” He reached out and nudged Kevin’s shoulder, and it was too much.

Kevin started to cry.

“Oh.” Arnold suddenly sounded worried. “Oh, Kevin, don’t… there, there.” He awkwardly patted Kevin’s arm, which only made Kevin cry harder. He covered his face with his hands again, pressing against his eyes to try and stem the tears, and felt terribly, terribly guilty for putting Arnold through all of this. For exposing him to this mess, for being an awful best friend to him.

“You don’t have to live with me if you don’t want to, Kevin. It was only an idea.”

“No,” Kevin choked out, “I- I really, really want to live with you, Arnold. You don’t- I really- I really want to-”

“Okay,” Arnold said. “Okay, Kevin. We’ll live together. Come here.”

He guided Kevin into an upright position and then wrapped his arms around him, drawing him into a hug. It wasn’t unusual, because Arnold loved hugs. But it was the first one that didn’t make Kevin a little uncomfortable. Kevin wasn’t used to being hugged or held, but now it felt like Arnold’s embrace was the only thing keeping him from falling apart.

He cried into Arnold’s shirt, smelling the dirt and sweat and an earthy scent that Kevin associated with Nabulungi. It felt so good to cry. Kevin couldn’t remember the last time he had done so. He knew he should feel ashamed of it, because his father had always told him that crying was a sign of mistrust in the Lord’s plan, but at that moment, he didn’t care.

He wasn’t sure how long it was before he started calming down, and Arnold gently released him and laid him back on the pillows. Kevin was tired, and watched through barely open eyes as Arnold stood and got dressed in his pajamas, and then crossed over to Kevin’s bed and crawled in. He turned the lights out.

“Goodnight, Kevin.”

Kevin really, really didn’t deserve Arnold.

“Goodnight, Arnold.”

X X X X X

Elder Mckinley wasn’t talking to Kevin anymore, which brought the number of Elders who actually bothered interacting with Kevin down to one. The only time he addressed Kevin was when he gave him his work assignments for the week. That was always a stiff and awkward exchange, and it never required much talking on Kevin’s part.

Kevin didn’t bother trying to fix the situation. He figured that Elder Mckinley was breathing easier now that he didn’t have to keep up the pretense that he cared about what Kevin was doing, and Kevin was certainly grateful that he had stopped attempting to coerce him into participation.

Kevin split his time between working and spending time with Arnold and Nabulungi. Whenever the two would slip away to have some time to themselves, he would find a tree to sit under and try very hard not to feel abandoned.

He was sleeping less and less, and Nabulungi finally commented on his growing caffeine addiction and stopped coming with him to get coffee in the morning. Kevin just shrugged and went on his own, skipping breakfast with the other Elders and instead trudging out to find someone who would slip him a mug. On the days he missed it he felt like a zombie, and he got awful headaches.

Occasionally he would be seized with the telltale warning signs of panic: his chest would close and breathing would become difficult and he would start seeing spots, but he always managed to slip out of the room before he caused another scene. The last thing he wanted to do was draw attention to himself when the others were working so hard at trying to ignore him.

Kevin wasn’t exactly happy, but he didn’t think he was unhappy either, so he contented himself with his simple existence. And if he sometimes woke up from dreams that involved a dark room, silent and with no escape, well, he would just get used to them.

Kevin had just woken from one of those dreams. It was late, definitely past midnight. He laid in bed, staring up at the dark ceiling and letting Arnold’s steady snoring beside him calm his racing heart.

Ten minutes later he was still awake and knew he wouldn’t be sleeping anymore, so he pushed his covers back as quietly as he could and stood up. Tiptoeing so as not to wake Arnold, he crept to the bedroom door and slipped out into the hall.

The living room was dark and empty, and the rough wood was cold under his feet. Kevin liked the house best at night, when he was the only one awake and he could pretend for a few hours that he was the only one there.

He crossed the room and sat down on the couch, tucking his feet underneath him for warmth. He should try and get some sleep, but he was scared of having a nightmare again, and more scared of being found the following morning in such a vulnerable position. So he sat in the silence wide awake, feeling his own heartbeat thrum in his chest. He didn’t know when he had become so aware of it.

Kevin’s eyes were starting to droop when a noise behind him made him jump. He whirled around in his seat to find Elder Mckinley standing there with his hands raised in a truce. “Elder Price,” he said. “I didn’t mean to scare you, I’m sorry.”

He hadn’t turned the light on, so Kevin couldn’t see his face or read his expression. But Kevin was too tired to fight, so he settled down and watched wearily as Elder Mckinley sat next to him.

“Couldn’t sleep?” Elder Mckinley asked. He was wearing a matching set of flannel pajamas. Kevin had no idea how he hadn’t gotten heatstroke yet.

“No.”

Elder Mckinley reached up and ran a hand through his hair. He sighed, sounding as though he had something heavy weighing him down. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“I’ve been behaving immaturely,” Elder Mckinley said. “You hurt my feelings when you didn’t accept my help, and I’ve been somewhat avoiding you since then. I wanted to apologize for that.”

He paused for Kevin to say something, but what was there to be said? Kevin was too tired for this.

“I won’t help you if you don’t want it.”

“I don’t need help,” Kevin said automatically.

“Right,” Elder Mckinley said. “I won’t talk to you if you don’t want me to. But I would like to talk to you, if you’ll let me.”

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why do you want to talk to me?”

“Well, Elder Price,” Elder Mckinley said. There was a pause. “I don’t really know.”

Of course he didn’t. Kevin crossed his arms and tried not to look too miserable. He tried to look blank, as blank as he was trying to make his mind. “Okay,” he said.

“Okay…?”

“You can talk to me. I guess. If you want.”

“I do want.”

“Fine.”

“Okay.”

Elder Mckinley shifted on the couch. Kevin didn’t move. “You should go back to bed, Elder Price,” Elder Mckinley said.

He didn’t mean it as an order, but Kevin was alright with accepting it as one. He slowly stood up.

“Goodnight, Elder Price.” Elder Mckinley wasn’t looking at him. He had turned his gaze to the window, which was open and provided an excellent view of the moon that Kevin hadn’t noticed before. It was big and blue and hung low in the sky, much lower than it did in America. But Kevin wasn’t looking at it. He was looking at Elder Mckinley’s face, which was suddenly so clear in the moonlight. He could see his sharp, crooked nose, and the way his eyes flashed when he blinked.

Kevin left him there without saying goodnight.

X X X X X

The following morning as Kevin tried to slip out the front door to go and scrounge up some coffee, he was stopped by Elder Mckinley.

“Elder Price,” the other boy called from the kitchen, “can you come here?”

Kevin was already regretting telling Elder Mckinley he could talk to him. He had caught him in a weak position last night and Kevin wished he had just told him to fuck off so he could go and get his morning coffee. Kevin closed his eyes, counted to three, and then turned and walked to the kitchen, ignoring Arnold’s worried expression. He no doubt thought that Kevin had done something wrong and was about to be told off. Kevin wasn’t fully convinced that _wasn’t_ what was about to happen, but when he walked into the kitchen he was greeted with Elder Mckinley’s full smile. He looked fully rested despite last night’s excursion.

“Poptarts.” Elder Mckinley shoved a bundle of napkins at him. Kevin lifted the top one and looked at the pastry. “Elder Poptarts’s family sent him a care package,” Elder Mckinley explained when Kevin looked at him inquisitively, “and he very generously agreed to share.”

“That’s nice,” Kevin said, “but I’m not hungry.”

“Nabulungi told me that you’re addicted to coffee.”

“Okay?”

“You can’t have just coffee for breakfast, Elder Price.”

Elder Mckinley turned away and started doing the dishes again. Kevin had half a mind to drop the Poptart and walk away, but it _had_ been a long time since he had had one. He broke off a piece and ate it slowly.

“Thanks,” he said.

“You should thank Elder Thomas.”

Kevin wasn’t going to do that. “Fine,” he said.

Kevin hovered, watching Elder Mckinley do the dishes. He had pushed his sleeves up past his elbows, and Kevin could see the trail of freckles that ran up his arms. He wondered if he had freckles everywhere, if Elder Mckinley was covered from head to toe in little sunspots.

He didn’t realize he was staring until Elder Mckinley’s scrubbing stopped. Kevin met his gaze with warmth in his cheeks. _This was why he needed coffee_.

“Sorry,” he muttered.

“Don’t apologize,” Elder Mckinley said. His own cheeks were touched with red. He opened his mouth to say something and then, seemingly changing his mind, closed it again. He turned and went back to washing.

Kevin wrapped up his Poptart and slipped it into his pocket. He figured his staring was getting creepy, so he turned and left.

X X X X X

After that, Elder Mckinley continued trying to strike up tentative interactions with Kevin. He would take the workspace next to him when they were at the building site and chat about future plans for decorating the space. At meals he would ask Kevin how his day was and nod as though Kevin’s muttered “fine” was the most interesting thing he had ever heard.

It was starting to make Kevin slightly uncomfortable. At the same time, however, Kevin missed getting attention from people. He had become so dependent on it at home that it had been a major part of his downfall in Uganda, so even though Arnold still maintained a sort of reverence towards him, Kevin was trying very hard to not let that go to his head. Elder Mckinley’s attention, however, was very different.

Kevin couldn’t help but feel a tiny thrill when Elder Mckinley crossed a crowded room just to talk to him, or when he caught Kevin’s eye at the dinner table and smirked as though they had some kind of inside joke. It made him feel good, because Elder Mckinley was popular, and even if he was just engaging with Kevin out of some kind of misplaced duty as district leader, it made Kevin feel special, in a way.

It depressed him to think about how reliant he still was on attention.

If the others thought it odd that Elder Mckinley was trying to ingratiate Kevin into the group by referencing him in table discussions or nudging him after a particularly good joke, they didn’t comment on it. For that, Kevin was grateful.

Kevin still spent a majority of his time with Nabulungi and Arnold, but now he had an additional alternative to free time: sit down somewhere and wait for Elder Mckinley to come bounding over. He seemed to come running every time Kevin found himself alone and without anything to do, and he always showed up with his signature broad smile.

Kevin was looking at that smile now, watching as Elder Mckinley approached where he was sitting beneath a tree. It was just after dinner, and they had three hours of time to themselves before lights out at ten. Arnold had slipped out to visit Nabulungi, and Kevin knew better than to go in search for them lest he find them in some uncompromising position.

Again.

“Hello!” Elder Mckinley stopped a few feet in front of Kevin, his hands tucked into the pockets of his trousers. “May I join you?”

Kevin shrugged, plucking a strand of particularly long grass. “Sure.”

Elder Mckinley sat down cross-legged in front of him. He was still dressed in full uniform, buttons done up and tie neatly pressed to the base of his neck, but his hair wasn’t particularly neat tonight. It was a little bit windswept and messy. Kevin liked it. It made him look much younger.

“Did you enjoy dinner?” Elder Mckinley asked. The tip of his nose was red with sunburn.

“It was fine,” Kevin said. He could feel the tree trunk’s bark digging into his shoulder blades through his own untucked t-shirt.

“It was a new recipe of mine,” Elder Mckinley said.

“Wasn’t it Hamburger Helper?”

“Yes, but we’ve never had the beef pasta shipped to us before,” Elder Mckinley said, tapping the side of his sunburned nose. “Thus, it was new.”

Kevin couldn’t help but smile as he ripped up another piece of grass.

“Where’s Elder Cunningham?” Elder Mckinley asked.

“Off with Nabulungi in some dark corner,” Kevin said, enjoying the way Elder Mckinley’s face reddened.

“Ah,” he said.

“I’m sorry,” Kevin said in a serious tone. “I’m probably not supposed to tell you about rule-breaking, am I?”

“Elder Cunningham hasn’t done anything explicitly wrong-”

“Isn’t there something in the rules about making out with the local women behind their father’s back?”

Elder Mckinley went even redder. “Elder Price,” he chastised.

“Sorry.” Kevin wasn’t sorry, because he enjoyed watching Elder Mckinley squirm when he got uncomfortable. “I thought we were lightening up on the rules.”

“We are,” Elder Mckinley said. “We’re all getting much more time off than we should technically be getting. If the church had it their way, we would be proselytizing right now.”

“Wow,” Kevin said, “we are living on the edge, aren’t we?”

Elder Mckinley laughed and reached out with his toe to nudge Kevin’s foot. “Not all of us can be as brave as you are, Elder Price,” he said. “What with your coffee and your uniform- or lack thereof.”

“I’m not brave,” Kevin said, staring at his foot.

“If we’re equating bravery with poor Mormonism,” Elder Mckinley, “you’re the bravest of us all.”

He meant it as a joke, but it made that irritation Kevin had been trying so hard to repress rear its ugly head in the pit of his stomach.

“There’s no need to remind me that I’m not a good Mormon,” Kevin said, dropping the grass he had picked.

Elder Mckinley paused. “I’m sorry,” he said, subdued. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“I’m not upset.” It had become an automatic response ever since he had broken down in front of Arnold, because now his well-meaning companion made a habit of checking up on him every time Kevin so much as frowned.

“It’s okay if you’re upset, Elder Price.”

“Well, I’m _not_ ,” he snapped. “Why are you even here? Haven’t you got friends to talk to or something?”

Elder Mckinley’s face hardened. “I do,” he said, “but I’ve chosen to come and talk to you because out of everyone, you’re the only one who’s sitting out here alone.”

“I’m not some kind of charity case.”

“No, you’re not,” Elder Mckinley said. “And you’re not very pleasant to be around, so I’m going to go.”

He pushed himself to his feet and turned to go. Kevin watched him, digging his fingers into the dirt underneath him, feeling the cold grass on his knuckles, and as Elder Mckinley started walking away, he was struck by that same pang of guilt he got whenever he snapped at Arnold.

“Wait,” Kevin said. Elder Mckinley paused and looked at him over his shoulder, lips twisted into a frown. “I’m sorry.”

Elder Mckinley hesitated. The sun had just begun to set, and Kevin could hear crickets starting to sing in the grasses around them. They were just far enough away from the house that they couldn’t hear any of the other Elders.

Elder Mckinley sighed heavily and came back over, dropping to sit down again next to Kevin. “You are infuriating, Kevin Price. I never know if you want me to stay or go.”

“I don’t, either,” Kevin said.

Elder Mckinley eyed him. His eyelashes were long, Kevin noted idly.

“Well,” Elder Mckinley said. “Let me know when you’ve figured it out.”

Kevin plucked another blade of grass and twirled it between his fingers.

“Okay.”

X X X X X

Two days later Kevin dropped the piece of wood he was sawing and crossed the construction site to the water station, where Elder Mckinley was drinking out of a paper cup.

“Stay,” Kevin said.

Elder Mckinley quirked his brows. “Have you been in the heat too long, Elder Price?”

“You said you didn’t know if I wanted you to stay or go,” Kevin said. “I’ve decided that I want you to stay. If you want.”

Elder Mckinley’s lips quirked. “You have, have you?”

Kevin nodded. The back of his neck was probably getting sunburned.

“Alright,” Elder Mckinley said. “Want some water?”

X X X X X

Kevin tried harder after that. Or, he tried to be a little less abrasive towards Elder Mckinley, at least.

Elder Mckinley always seemed to be able to find him when Arnold and Nabulungi left to be together, which was becoming a more and more frequent occurrence, and Kevin began to expect him. He sat next to Elder Mckinley at meals and muttered comments to him that made Elder Mckinley squeak and elbow him in the ribs. When they played Go Fish, he sat on the sofa behind Elder Mckinley and peeked at his cards, whispering suggestions into his freckled ear.

“That’s cheating!” Elder Davis said from across the table as Elder Mckinley took yet another point.

“No it isn’t,” Elder Mckinley said, primly straightening his growing pile of cards. “Elder Price is just the angel on my shoulder.”

“More like the devil,” Elder Church said, but he said it without malice and when Kevin looked at him, he grinned.

Kevin wasn’t upset about it. He was still thinking about how Elder Mckinley had called him an angel.

X X X X X

Kevin had a hell dream that night. It was a different kind of hell dream than he was used to, though, because it didn’t hurt or scare him. It had been simple, deceptively simple, just him sitting under a tree in the middle of a meadow, and Elder Mckinley had been there dressed in all white, and he had leaned in close to Kevin and whispered “angel” and the warmth of his breath had made him shiver.

Kevin woke up panting. He sat up in bed and let his eyes adjust to the dark room. Arnold was sleeping peacefully beside him. Elder Mckinley was not there, but Kevin could still feel the ghost of a breath on his neck, and it brought back a chill that ran up his spine.

He got out of bed and slipped into the quiet hallway, shutting the door very carefully. He felt his way through the darkness with his bare feet and memory, letting instinct draw him blindly down the hall and into the living room. He started moving towards the couch to go curl up and zone out for a few hours, when the soft bang of a cupboard door closing in the kitchen made him freeze.

His heart pounded and he had the sudden irrational fear that it was a demon come to get him, whether one of the demons his family and the holy book had drilled into him, or a demon from a movie he had seen at a friend’s house when he had been eight, one that had given him nightmares for weeks after. But then the battery powered lamp they used very sparingly turned on in the kitchen, and he saw Elder Mckinley staring at him with wide eyes. He was still wearing that ridiculous matching flannel set.

“Elder Price,” he whispered. “You _scared_ me.”

Kevin took a long, slow breath. “You scared _me_ ,” he hissed. “What are you doing in the kitchen?”

Elder Mckinley raised an opened box of graham crackers, grinning ruefully. “Had to get this out from its hiding place.”  
Kevin frowned. “Why, Elder Mckinley,” he said. “That’s against the rules!”

Elder Mckinley rolled his eyes. “Shut up and come have one.”

Kevin walked over and reached into the box, feeling around for a cracker. He pulled it out and looked down at it. It had been so long since he had had one. It made nostalgia rise in his throat like bile.

Elder Mckinley was watching him, and Kevin swallowed and tried to look like he _wasn’t_ about to get emotional over a graham cracker.

“Let’s go outside,” Elder Mckinley said. “I don’t want to wake the others.”

He turned the light off and Kevin followed him across the living room to the front door, which Elder Mckinley eased open. The sound of chirping crickets grew louder as Kevin stepped out. It was still warm outside, but a pleasant, cool kind of warmth that was refreshing and relaxing all at once. It was a relief to get a break from the heat.

There was a pair of old lawn chairs that Elder Neeley had found at the market and dragged back a few weeks ago by the door. They sat down in them and Elder Mckinley balanced the box of graham crackers on the arm of his chair between them.

Kevin took a bite of his first cracker and sighed into the cinnamon taste. “God,” he said. “I miss sugar. Everything we have here is too healthy.”

“They’re the last of the snacks my parents sent me,” Elder Mckinley said. “I’ve been saving them for a rainy day.”

“Oh.” Kevin lowered the cracker. “I’m not going to eat them, then.”

“No!” Elder Mckinley said quickly. “No, please. I insist. Eat them all.”

“Elder Mckinley, I’m not going to eat your crackers.”

“If you don’t eat them, I’m just going to dump them into the river.”

Kevin scowled. “You’re annoying.”

“Because I’m nice?”

“Yes.”

Elder Mckinley laughed again, and it sent that same chill through Kevin that he had been unable to shake since his dream.

“And you’re nice for no reason,” Kevin said, “which makes it even worse.”

“Does there have to be a reason for being nice?” Elder Mckinley sounded amused.

“Yes,” Kevin said. “Mormons are nice because God told them they had to be. Arnold is nice because he’s my mission companion.”

“Arnold is nice because he’s your friend,” Elder Mckinley corrected. “And what about the villagers? Nabulungi? They’re nice.”

“They’re… different.” Kevin broke his graham cracker in half, ignoring the crumbs settling into the lap of his pajama pants. “They’re not really nice, are they? It has to do more with loyalty. They’re fiercely loyal to one another, and they care a lot, but they’re not nice. Nabulungi especially is _not_ nice. She pulled my hair yesterday just because she could.”

Elder Mckinley chuckled. “You don’t think I have a reason for being nice to you?” he asked.

Kevin shrugged, chewing on his graham cracker. “You’re the district leader,” he said. “You have to be nice to me, especially since everyone else hates me.”

“Elder Price.” Elder Mckinley turned to face him, but Kevin just popped the rest of the graham cracker into his mouth and grabbed the graham cracker box.

“ _Kevin_.”

Kevin froze mid-chew. He turned slowly to look at Elder Mckinley, whose expression was serious in the near-darkness. None of the Elders except for Arnold and Kevin ever used first names.

“Nobody hates you,” Elder Mckinley said. “You really… you are so stupid.”

Kevin swallowed, offended. “Excuse me?”

“Everyone keeps their distance from you because you act like you hate everyone else! Nobody has any personal grievances with you, you’re just… snappish.”

“I am not.”

Elder Mckinley snorted. Kevin scowled.

“And I’m nice to you because I’m your friend, silly. Not because I’m the district leader,” Elder Mckinley said.

“...You are?”

Elder Mckinley’s serious expression turned doubtful. “I mean,” he said, “I think so? I mean? I want to be? If you don’t want to be my friend, though, I understand, I know you have Arnold and Nabulungi and I’m not exactly the most fun guy around here-”

“Shut up,” Kevin said, wanting him to stop talking so he could think. All this time he had assumed that Elder Mckinley was behaving politely towards him out of a sense of obligation, and the idea of Elder Mckinley wanting- actively seeking- a friendship with him made him feel something that wasn’t exactly happiness, but wasn’t that dull ache of emptiness that had settled in him over the past few weeks, either.

“Are you sure you want to be my friend?” Kevin asked doubtfully.

“Well,” Elder Mckinley said. “You have an attitude problem. You don’t like talking to other people or being part of a team, and you seem to have made it your new mission to break every rule the church has given us, which I can’t officially support.”

“Thanks.”

“ _But_ ,” Elder Mckinley said, and his voice softened. “You care about your friends and you’re dreadfully sarcastic and you make me laugh, Elder Price. So yes. I would like to be your friend.”

Kevin leaned back in his seat and gazed out across the field. The sky was almost light blue in the moonlight, and there were billions of stars, far more than he had ever seen in America. He still wasn’t quite used to looking up and seeing such a clear view of the night sky. Once he would have thought it evidence of God’s beauty. Now he just saw it as something intrinsically and wonderfully African.

“Elder Price?”

“I hate that,” Kevin said, still staring out at the sky. “I hate being called Elder Price.”

“Oh.”

“It makes me feel…” Kevin rolled his shoulders, trying to find words for the claustrophobic feeling he got when people referred to him stiffly as ‘Elder Price’ or even ‘Kevin Price.’ Maybe it was just the name Price that made him feel small.

“Kevin, then.”

Kevin looked at Elder Mckinley for just a moment. “If you don’t mind.”

“I don’t,” Elder Mckinley said. “I guess it’s only fair that you call me Connor, then.”

 _Connor_.

“Connor Mckinley,” Kevin said, feeling it move through his throat, letting it roll off of his tongue. Beside him, Elder Mckinley made a small noise that Kevin couldn’t decipher.

Kevin turned in his seat to look at Connor. Connor’s blue eyes were bright in the dark, and so, so wide.

Kevin offered him his hand. “Connor Mckinley,” he said. “It’s nice to meet you.”

Connor looked down at it, blankly, and Kevin felt embarrassment creeping in. But then he reached out and accepted the handshake. His hand was warm.

“It’s nice to meet you, Kevin Price.” His voice was hardly above a whisper, and Kevin felt that same chill, and he had no idea what was happening anymore.

“Would you like to be my friend?” Kevin asked.

A smile slowly grew on Connor’s face. He hadn’t let go of his hand.

“Yes.”


	2. Chapter 2

II

"Fuck!” Kevin dropped his hammer and hopped away from the planks he had been trying to nail together with a hiss of pain. In front of him, Elder Church scowled over his shoulder, eyes disapproving.

“Kevin!” Arnold was at his side in a moment, hands fluttering over Kevin’s arm, touching his shoulder and moving dangerously close to his thumb, which felt as though it was burning. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine.” Kevin grit his teeth and drew his hand closer to him. He didn’t want to admit his mistake, but Arnold wouldn’t leave until he had. “I hit my thumb.”

“You should go and tell Elder Mckinley.”

“I’m _fine_ , Arnold.” It was hotter than usual, and Kevin’s shirt was clinging to his back and arms. The added pain made it hard to think, and he shut his eyes and breathed deeply through his nostrils to try and ground himself.

That didn’t ease Arnold’s worry. His friend backed away from him, tripped over his feet, then said, “I’ll be right back!”

He was gone before Kevin could protest. Kevin covered his thumb with his hand, refusing to look at it, and glared at the offending hammer and nail lying there. He was done with them for the day. He refused to put his sweat _and_ his blood into this stupid church.

“Elder Price?” Arnold trotted back over with a concerned-looking Connor Mckinley on his heels, and Kevin suddenly got the strong urge to kick him.

“Oh, we’re back to Elder Price, are we?” he spat. He just wanted to go curl up and pass out until his thumb stopped hurting so badly.

Connor’s concern slipped away, replaced by bemusement. He raised his eyebrows. “Elder Cunningham said you hurt yourself.”

“And I told Elder Cunningham that I was fine.”

“Can I see it?”

“No.”

“I think it’s bleeding,” Arnold piped up. Kevin glared at him. _Traitor_.

“Let me at least get you some water,” Connor said.

Kevin wanted to fight some more, but his thumb hurt _really_ badly, so he fell into step beside Connor and scowled as they crossed the construction site to the water station, which was really just a  table with a thermos that they had to refill every half hour or so.

They stopped in front of it. Connor held out his hand, his expression frank and open. “Let me just take a peek at it.”

Kevin slowly let go of his thumb, still refusing to look at the damage. He fixed his gaze on Connor’s right ear as Connor examined it.

Then Connor gingerly touched Kevin’s hand and Kevin hissed in pain as heat shot through his fingers.

“Ouch,” he snapped.

“I’m sorry,” Connor said, moving his grip to Kevin’s wrist instead. His hands were dirty and covered in sweat-dried dust, but so were Kevin’s. “It doesn’t look too bad.”

“It hurts.”

“I know,” Connor said. “I can get you a bandage back at the house.”

“I don’t need a bandage.”

“You do if you want to keep working. I don’t want this getting infected.”

Kevin blinked and then risked a peek at it. He had slammed the hammer on the side of his nail, and his finger was a bloody, swollen mess. As he stared at it it gave an awful throb and the back of Kevin’s neck suddenly went cold with panic. _Oh, god, that’s really bad._

“Kevin?” Connor’s hand was on his shoulder, steadying him as Kevin wavered in place. “Kevin, are you alright?”

“Fine,” Kevin muttered, shutting his eyes briefly.

“Let’s get out of the sun.”

Kevin still felt lightheaded, and he stumbled over his own feet as Connor turned him around and nudged him into walking. He stared at the ground and tried to focus on breathing and not on the way his thumb was throbbing steadily now, or all the blood that was drying on his palm.

“Is he alright?” Kevin wasn’t sure which of the Elders asked that, but he was grateful when Connor said, “He’s fine, go on back to work.”

Connor kept one arm wrapped around Kevin’s shoulders as they walked, guiding him around rocks and fallen tree branches and muttering a steady stream of encouragements like “Almost there” and “just a little bit further.”

Kevin didn’t realize that they had made it back to the house until his foot hit the bottom porch step. He shuffled up the stairs and let Connor open the door for him, then followed him across the room to the couch.

“Sit down,” Connor said. “I’ll be right back.”

Kevin dropped onto the sofa and tilted his head back, staring at the ceiling so he wouldn’t accidentally look at his thumb. It was marginally cooler in here, but only just, and the sweat on his forehead and the back of his neck made him simultaneously cold and warm. He tried to keep his breathing slow and even, but he was feeling that familiar tight feeling in his chest, and _oh god not here_. He took a long breath, trying to calm himself down.

The couch dipped as Connor sat down beside him. “I’m going to clean the cut,” he said. “I’ll be real quick.”

Kevin squeezed his eyes shut as Connor took his wrist. His touch was gentle, but a moment later Kevin hissed as his thumb stung with a renewed, sharpened pain.

“Antiseptic,” Connor said in his ear. “That was the worst of it. One more second, I just need to clean it off real quick and then… there. That’s done. You’re doing great.”

Kevin wanted to tell Connor that he didn’t need to treat him like a child, but he was beginning to have trouble breathing.

“And then some pain relieving cream, and then I’m just going to wrap it up… it’s a good thing I had to learn first aid before I got here, otherwise this would be absolutely abysmal… I can’t even wrap a present, let alone a bandage… and here we go. There. I’m done.”

He let go of Kevin’s hand. Kevin dimly registered that his thumb felt a lot better, but at the forefront of his mind was the fact that Connor had let go of him. His chest clenched on itself.

“Kevin, you need to breathe.”

“I am- breathing-” Kevin said through gritted teeth. “I breathe- great.”

“Of course you do,” Connor said. “You breathe better than anyone I know.”

There were hands on him again, Connor’s hands on his shoulder, and then sliding up to brush his cheek. Kevin, eyes still shut, stayed perfectly still as Connor’s fingers traced his cheekbone and then slid down to rest on his jaw. No one had touched Kevin so gently in… years, perhaps. His family never indulged in physical affection. Kevin had rarely hugged anyone before he had met Arnold.

“Oh, Kevin,” Connor said. “Kevin Price. Come here.”

Connor’s hands were moving across Kevin’s back and pulling him down until Kevin’s head rested on Connor’s shoulder. It was a little awkward because Kevin was taller than Connor, but one of Connor’s hands was rubbing small circles into his back and the other was wrapped firmly around his wrist, and it felt so good that Kevin forgot about how embarrassing the whole situation was. All he cared about was how solid Connor felt underneath him, and that was what he focused on as he felt tears in his eyes growing. He sniffed and reached up to swipe at them, willing them to go away. He had humiliated himself enough already.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice embarrassingly thick.

“It’s alright.” Connor’s mouth was close to his ear, just like it had been in Kevin’s dream. “You’re going to be fine.”

Connor sat with him as five minutes turned to ten, and then Kevin lost track of time because it was warm and his eyes were shut and Connor’s shoulder was so nice to lean on, and eventually his tears stopped and his chest opened once more, and Kevin could breathe again. Connor was still rubbing his back, although the motion had gotten lazier.

When Kevin’s breathing was calm again, Connor said, “Do you want some water or anything?”

Kevin shook his head, his cheek rubbing against the fabric of Connor’s shirt. He smelled like mud and wood shavings from the building site. Kevin didn’t want him to go, because he hadn’t felt this comfortable since before he had gone to Uganda, and he was scared that if Connor left, that would be the last hug that Kevin got for a very long time. But Kevin was selfish in thinking that. “You need to get back to the others.” Kevin’s voice was slightly hoarse.

“They’ll be fine without me,” Connor said. “I’m going to stay as long as you need me.” He was always trying his hardest to maintain his own title of district leader. Always taking care of his missionaries.

Kevin was tired and he had no motivation to fight Connor on that. Instead he pressed his face further against Connor’s shoulder and sighed. “I don’t need you,” he mumbled, because even though Kevin was pretty sure he had no dignity left, he couldn’t help the defensive tone in his voice.

Connor’s hand paused on Kevin’s back. “I’ll stay with you as long as you’ll let me, then,” he said. “Even if you don’t need me.”

“Connor?”

“Yes, Kevin?”

Kevin was very, very tired. His thin mattress was never this comfortable. “Thank you.”

Connor’s hand dragged across Kevin’s back, his touch light. “You’re welcome, Kevin.”

 XXXXX

There were voices around Kevin. He frowned, wishing that they would leave so he could go back to sleep. He hadn’t been able to sleep so well in weeks.

“Is he alright?”

“He’s fine, Elder Davis. He’s just tired.”

“Do you want me to take him back to our room?”

“No, Elder Cunningham, that’s alright. Why don’t you all go to your rooms and take a break? I’m going to let him sleep a while longer.”

Kevin listened to the footsteps filing away. Confused, he shifted. His mouth felt stale and he felt so, so tired, and whatever was underneath him shifted, and the unknowns would have been enough to make Kevin panic if he hadn’t been half asleep.

There were fingers in his hair, brushing through it. Was it Nabulungi?

“Go back to sleep, Kevin,” said a voice that was distinctly not Nabulungi’s.

Kevin obliged. 

XXXXX

“Did your parents stop talking to you, too?”

“How very polite of you, Kevin.”

"I’m just trying to make conversation,” Kevin said, pulling the leaves off a branch he had picked up.

He and Connor were strolling through the village together. It was late in the day and most of the villagers had retreated inside or were lounging on their porches in the shade. A few waved at them as they passed. Kevin gestured at them with his stick in response.

Kevin had finally talked Connor into taking his tie off after hours of proclaiming loudly how wonderful it felt to have a free neck. When Connor had finally shucked his “noose of oppression,” as Kevin had lovingly begun to call it, he had laughed and whacked Kevin on the arm with it.

Now, as they walked side by side, Kevin figured that they looked less like missionaries and more like overdressed homeless people.

Kevin still wasn’t over the loss of his hair gel.

"They did, yes,” Connor said. “They view everything that’s over here as a massive step backwards in my treatment.”

“What treatment?”

"You know.”

“No, I don’t know, Connor,” Kevin said. He knocked Connor’s shoulder with his own. “I’m not a mind-reader.”

Connor’s smile was fleeting. “I’m talking about therapy,” he said. “To make me a better Mormon.”

Kevin frowned. “They have that?”

“It’s not… gosh, Kevin.” Connor shoved his hands in his pockets and kicked at the dusty road. “It’s where I learned to ‘turn it off,’ you know?”

Oh. Kevin knew he was dense, but even he felt bad about missing that one.

“Oh,” he said.

"Yeah.”

“They’re really not talking to you just because of that?”

Connor looked at him, incredulous. “You act like it’s a small thing.”

“Well… it is.”

Connor chuckled and shook his head, and Kevin felt a flare of irritation, because he knew when a joke was at his expense. “Kevin Price.” Connor sounded rueful. “Everything seems like a walk in the park for you, doesn’t it? Especially when you don’t have to deal with it.”

Kevin snapped the branch in half. It made Connor jump.

“Stop it,” Kevin said. “Stop making this about me.”

“I’m not.”

“Then don’t do it.”

“Fine.”

Kevin dropped the two halves of the branches onto the ground. He had half a mind to keep pushing, but they had been having such a pleasant evening, and he was annoyed that it was ruined now.

They walked in silence. Then Connor said, “I don’t want to fight with you right now.”

“I don’t either.”

“Alright,” Connor said. “Let’s not fight, then.”

It was that simple, and Kevin was relieved.

“My parents aren’t talking to me either, you know,” he said after a while of semi-awkward silence, trying to make up for earlier.

“I know,” Connor said. “I hand out the mail.”

“The very last thing they wrote to me,” Kevin said, “was that if I don’t stop giving into my weaknesses and letting myself get influenced by these godless savages, I will no longer be able to call myself a Price.”

“Were they talking about the villagers, or us?”

“Probably a little bit of both,” Kevin said. He laughed. “If only they knew that it’s my fault we’re all godless here.”

“It’s not your fault, Kevin.” Connor seemed to be saying that a lot recently. “We all made the choice to stay. Any one of us could have left.”

Kevin swooped down and picked up a rock. He rubbed his thumb over it, trying to clean off some of the dust. It was a decent-sized rock, about the size of his palm and smooth all over.

"Are you going to try and go back?” Connor asked.

“God, no.” Kevin pulled his arm back and tossed the rock far ahead of them. It skipped on the road, throwing up a cloud of dirt where it landed. “Are you?”

Connor squinted out as the dirt cloud slowly dissipated. “I don’t know,” he said. “I haven’t got much of a choice.”

“You always have a choice, Connor,” Kevin said. “Hasn’t Uganda taught you that much?”

Connor looked at Kevin. There was something raw in the set of his mouth that made Kevin distinctly uncomfortable.

“Where are you going to go, then?” Connor asked.

“I’m going wherever Arnold goes,” Kevin said. “We’re going to move in together.”

“Like… by yourselves?”

“Hopefully. Maybe with his parents, for a little bit, until we can find our own place. And then. Yeah.”

“That’s… great.” Connor didn’t sound particularly excited. “I’m really happy for you two.”

“Thank you,” Kevin said. He wanted to say more. He wanted to tell Connor that he didn’t have to go back to a family that would shove him back into a box and try to crush it. He wanted to tell Connor that he was afraid for him, afraid that he would lose his smile and stop laughing and… well, Kevin didn’t know what he would do if that happened. Probably die, he thought, because Kevin had always been a drama queen.

But Kevin had also always been a coward, so he didn’t say any of that.

“Arnold’s probably going to deck the whole place out in Star Trek stuff,” Kevin said. “I’m going to have just a little spot on the floor for myself that’s free of laser guns and ewoks.”

“Ewoks are from Star Wars.” A little bit of humor had come back to Connor’s voice, and it relieved Kevin.

“Don’t tell Arnold that,” Kevin said. “He thinks he’s teaching me.”

“You’re not a very good student, Kevin Price.” Connor shoved Kevin.

Kevin laughed. “And you’re an asshole,” he said. Connor gasped dramatically.

“Elder Price!” he exclaimed. “I will have to formally ground you. Rule number 53 states that thou shalt not swear.”

“Ah,” Kevin said, “but rule 85 says that if the grounded beats the groundee in a race, then Kevin is officially ungrounded and allowed to swear whenever he wants.”

Connor frowned. “What? That’s not a real rule. There’s nothing that- hey, wait! Kevin!”

Kevin’s laugh was torn away by the wind as he pumped his arms, kicking up dry dirt as he raced back through the village. “See you at the house!” he shouted over his shoulder, where Connor was still staring incredulously after him. 

XXXXX

“I think we should host a party.”

Kevin looked up from his turkey sandwich. He had been so engrossed in how absolutely tasteless it was that he hadn’t even noticed Connor stand up beside him.

“A party?” Elder Church sounded wary.

“It’s almost been six months since Elders Cunningham and Price arrived,” Connor said, “and I think we should host a party. We can invite all the villagers, make lots of food, play games- it’ll be fun!”

“We didn’t get a party for our six month anniversary,” Elder Zelder said.

“You aren’t Elder Price,” someone muttered, and Kevin looked around the table and glared at each and every one of them because he couldn’t tell who had said it.

“It’ll be fun.” Connor looked a little disappointed, and Kevin had half the mind to jump out of his seat and declare that he _loved_ parties and that he would single handedly plan it if no one else was going to get off of their ass and help.

“Can we… have alcohol?”

They all turned to Elder Thomas, who had sunk so low in his seat his nose was almost level with the table. His cheeks were bright red. Kevin glanced at Connor, who was staring at Elder Thomas with a slack jaw.

“Well,” he said. “Uh, Elder Thomas, I…”

“I can get some,” Kevin said, his mouth moving quicker than his brain. This time they all turned to him in disbelief. He set his sandwich down and tried to look professional. “I mean, if it’s alright with you, Elder Mckinley.”

“Well…” Connor looked flustered. “Is… everyone alright with that?”

Silence.

“Is anyone _opposed_ ?”

Silence.

“Alright,” Connor said. “Alright. Alright, awesome. We’ll have a party. With alcohol. Next Tuesday, alright? We need to start planning everything. Kevin, uh, Elder Price, you’re on drinks, I guess. We need to start making invitations… they’ll have to be old-fashioned ones, I guess we can’t do E-vites…”

Kevin watched Connor flutter his way through the plans. His cheeks were still red. And that, Kevin thought with satisfaction, made the awkwardness in the room worth it.

XXXXX

Kevin was on what he thought was his fourth glass of beer. He and Nabulungi were in the corner watching Arnold flail wildly in the center of the living room. The sofa and table had been pushed out of the way to make a kind of makeshift dance floor, and a few of the villagers had pulled out instruments and were playing a quick tune off to the side. It was haphazard and sometimes they stopped in the middle of one song to start another one, but everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves.

Kevin had had plenty of coffee, but he had never had alcohol. It was a new kind of experience entirely. His head felt delightfully light, and he kept laughing even though there was nothing to laugh about. He had also decided that he had a newfound affinity for hugging Nabulungi.

“Kevin Price,” she said through her own laughter as he wrapped his arms around her for the third time in the last five minutes. “You are a very clingy drunk.”

“I’m not drunk,” Kevin announced. He rested his chin on her shoulder. “You smell nice.”

“Yes, you have told me that.”

“I like beer.”

“You have also told me that.” She patted him on the head. Kevin shut his eyes and squeezed her waist. One of the villagers had taken up the maracas. It sounded like rain. Or was it actually raining? Kevin should go outside and check.

“Elder Mckinley.” Nabulungi sounded amused. Kevin opened his eyes again and rolled his head to the side to find Connor standing there, a paper cup in hand, his eyebrows raised at Kevin.

“Connor!” Kevin lurched to his feet and reached for Connor, because if he liked hugging Nabulungi, he would _definitely_ like hugging Connor. Connor probably smelled good, too. Kevin stumbled halfway there and Connor laughed and reached out a hand to steady him. Kevin stared at it. That wasn’t a hug.

“I came to check if you two were having fun,” he said. “Apparently you’re having _too_ much fun.”

“Do not blame me,” Nabulungi said. “You white boys cannot handle your alcohol.”

On the dance floor, Arnold whooped and dropped down into a very poor rendition of the worm. It looked like he was having a seizure Kevin leaned on Connor to support himself, raised his fist in the air, and yelled, “That’s my prophet!” in support.

“Mungu mwema,” Nabulungi said. “I am going to go and look after Arnold before he breaks a bone. Elder Mckinley, this boy is all yours.”

“Naba.” Kevin whirled around. The floor beneath him dipped, and he frowned momentarily. “Are you leaving?”

“I am never leaving you, Kevin Price.” Nabulungi reached out and flicked his nose. “But your companion needs my assistance.”

Kevin furrowed his brow, thinking it over. He figured Arnold needed someone to hug, too. “M’kay,” he said. “I guess that’s fine.”

“I am glad to hear that.”

Kevin leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her cheek, because that was what his mother did to her female friends when she said goodbye to them. Nabulungi giggled and patted him on the head again.

“Good luck,” she said over his shoulder. Kevin, confused as to who she was talking to, paused in thought before remembering Connor was there. He turned around with a grin.

“Connor!” he exclaimed, throwing his hands up in the air in excitement. Kevin loved parties.

Connor smiled. “Kevin.”

Kevin grabbed for his cup. Connor let him have it. “Are you… drinking water?” Kevin shot him a look. “ _Boring_.”

“I’ve had enough alcohol tonight,” Connor said.

“That’s _stupid,_ ” Kevin said. He set the paper cup down on the table next to him, spilling a bit. “And boring. Let’s go get beer. I like beer.”

“I can see that,” Connor said. Kevin turned around and surveyed the room. Elder Thomas had passed out at the kitchen table early on in the night, and a few of the village girls were busy braiding yarn into his hair. Elders Church and Michaels were hyping up Arnold on the dancefloor while Nabulungi stood nearby, looking on in exasperation. Everyone else was milling with their drinks or dancing.

“The beer is in the kitchen,” Kevin said.

“I really don’t think you need anymore beer.”

“Why? I don’t-” Kevin hiccuped. His mouth tasted how his brain felt: alcohol-saturated. “I feel totally fine. Do you like beer, Connor Mckinley?”

“It isn’t… awful,” Connor said. He had unbuttoned the top few buttons of his shirt. Kevin could see freckles on his chest, and he was once again seized by the all-encompassing _need_ to know how many freckles Connor Mckinley had on his body.

“I do,” Kevin said, staring hard at Connor’s chest freckles. Should he ask if Connor knew how many he had? Is that something that people knew? Kevin could count them for him, if he wanted. “I do like beer. A lot.” He reached out a hand so he could lean casually against the wall like Connor was, but his hand found nothing but air, and he yelped as he tripped.

“Slow down.” Connor chuckled and caught him. That was something he seemed to like to do. Kevin wrapped his arms around Connor’s shoulders like he had with Nabulungi. Connor was bigger than Nabulungi, and sturdier, too. Kevin decided that he liked it. Much better for catching.

“It’s hot in here,” Kevin said.

“It’s because there are so many people.”

“I don’t like people,” Kevin said. He pressed his cheek against Connor’s shoulder. “Will you take me outside?”

“I… sure, Kevin.”

He thought he felt Connor trying to slip out of his hug, so Kevin tightened his grip. After a moment Connor sighed and Kevin felt a tentative hand on his waist. “Come on,” Connor said, and with one lurching step they had set off across the dance floor.

Kevin’s stomach gurgled as they walked with the simultaneous steps of people in a two-legged-race. Kevin frowned and stared at his feet, and then at Connor’s, trying to figure out the pattern. Connor was warm, really warm, which was good. But Kevin was also hot, really hot, so Connor’s additional warmth wasn’t really the best thing in the entire world at the moment. But also, it was the best thing in the entire world.

“I’m confused,” Kevin muttered.

“Sure you are,” Connor said.

The front door was open. Elder Neeley and Elder Zelder were on the patio with a bottle of water each, looking far more sober than anyone else in the house. They stared as Connor heaved Kevin out, Kevin blinking at the sudden change of scenery.

“He’d better not puke on us,” Elder Neeley said.

Kevin glared at him. “Connor is not going to puke on you, stupid.”

Elder Zelder rolled his eyes.

“Come on, Kevin. Let’s leave Elder Neeley and Elder Zelder alone.”

He helped Kevin down the steps. The evening air felt really nice. It was much better out here. Kevin sighed, twisting his fingers into the fabric of Connor’s shirt.

“It’s not hot out here,” he said. “Thank you, Connor Mckinley.”

“You’re welcome, Kevin.” He heard the laughter in Connor’s voice, but he magnanimously decided not to comment on it.

“I should kiss you on the cheek,” Kevin announced.

Connor slowed down. “Uh,” he said. “No, you shouldn’t.”

“Why not? Naba lets me kiss her.”

“Naba is a girl.”

“So?” Kevin scowled, because he liked kissing people on the cheek, and Connor had done something nice for him, so shouldn’t he kiss _him_ on the cheek to say thank you? “I don’t care. I’ll kiss you on the cheek, too. I’ll kiss both your cheeks.”

“You really don’t have to do that. Now sit down, you’re really heavy.”

“I am not,” Kevin muttered, but Connor let go of him and he fell. Connor had led them out of sight of the house to Kevin’s favorite lounging tree. He could still hear the music and the laughter just beyond the hill.

Kevin rolled onto his back and shut his eyes. “I want to kiss your cheek freckles,” he said to the sky. “It’s not fair that I’m not allowed to just because they’re boy cheek freckles. I don’t even care that much about girl cheek freckles, but at least I’m allowed to kiss those.”

“It’s not- Kevin, you’re drunk.”

“So?” Kevin opened his eyes. Connor was sitting beside him, staring down at him. Backlit by the moon, he looked like he had a halo, and Kevin remembered his dream. _Angel_. “Just because I’m drunk I can’t kiss cheek freckles?”

“Would you lay off the freckles?”

“Not until I get to kiss them.”

“Oh for gosh’s- fine, Kevin.”

Kevin sat up slowly because when he moved too quickly the world spun. Connor was watching him warily, like he was waiting for him to do something stupid, which Kevin didn’t think was fair. “I can kiss them?”

“If it’ll get you to shut up,” Connor said.

So Kevin leaned forward and pressed his lips to Connor’s cheek, imagining that he could taste every single freckle. He pulled back and smiled. “There,” he said. “That’s my thank you.”

Connor turned away from him. “You’re… welcome.”

Kevin leaned forward and rested his chin on his fist, happiness fading. He tilted his head and stared at Connor. “I’ve upset you,” he said.

Connor looked at him again. He was smiling, but there was something wrong about it. Kevin’s head was too foggy to know what it was. “No, you haven’t, Kevin.”

“I always upset you,” Kevin said. “Was it because I said I hate people? I don’t hate you, Connor, I promise.”

“I’m not upset.”

“I like you very much, actually,” Kevin said. “Like. Almost more than anyone has ever liked anyone ever. Except maybe how Arnold likes Nabulungi, because he talks about her in his sleep all the time, and I love him, but it’s a little bit creepy. But it’s okay, because she likes him too. That’s what makes it okay. Do you like me, Connor?”

“Of course I do.”

Kevin scooted back until he was leaning against the trunk of the tree. “Not as much as I like you, I bet.”

“I very much doubt that.”

Kevin put his cheek to the bark of the tree and closed his eyes. He was tired. “I like Africa, too,” Kevin said. “I like Africa and I like you and I really like beer. We should have beer all the time, Connor.”

“That’s called alcoholism.”

Kevin laughed into the tree and opened his eyes. “You’re funny,” he said. “Connor Mckinley.” He leaned forward and tried to flick his nose, but missed and hit Connor’s chin, which made him laugh again. “Connor Mckinley is _funny_. Ha ha. Alcoholism.”

“Not really something to laugh about, but I’ll take it.”

Kevin rested his hands on Connor’s knee. “I’m glad you’re my friend,” he said. “I’ve never had a friend before.”

“That’s not true.”

“No, really!” Kevin leaned forward, ready to share a great big secret. “You and Arnold and Nabulungi are the only friends I’ve ever had. Everyone else I’ve ever known has just… been there. No one has ever wanted to actually talk to me. Or, they did at first, but when I would start talking about something that wasn’t God or how great my family was they would get uncomfortable and leave. I had to stop doing that.”

“Doing what?”

“Talking about things that aren’t God,” Kevin said. “God is the only interesting thing about me.”

“That’s not true.”

“It is.” Kevin wasn’t sad about it. He had embraced it long ago. “And now that I don’t really believe in him, there’s nothing interesting about me at all. So I’m super glad that you still want to be my friend.”

“Of course I do, Kevin.” Connor touched his hand, just briefly. It felt good, so Kevin reached out and caught Connor’s hand with his own, curling his fingers between Connor’s.

Connor stared down at their hands for a moment, but didn’t protest.

“Of course I want to be your friend,” he said. “You know, I’ve never really had friends before, either.”

Kevin snorted. “Yeah, right. You’re so… you have so many freckles. Why wouldn’t someone want to be friends with someone who has so many freckles?”

Connor’s lips twitched. “Not everyone likes freckles.”

“That’s _dumb_ ,” Kevin said. Connor’s hand was stiff in his, so he squeezed it to try and help him relax. That’s what Connor got for drinking water. Stiffness. “Like, super, super dumb. Freckles are great. I think freckles are just about the greatest thing on the planet.”

“Well, thank you.”

“People really didn’t want to be your friend just because you have freckles?”

“Not just that, no. There were… other things.”

“What, because you’re gay?”

Kevin didn’t realize something was wrong until Connor’s hand was gone. He stared down at his empty hand with a frown and then looked up. Connor was glaring at him, his lips pressed into a thin line.

“I’m not,” he said.

“ _I_ don’t mind,” Kevin said. “It’s okay with me.”

“But I’m _not_ .”

Kevin couldn’t help it. He laughed.

“Stop it,” Connor said, and Kevin laughed harder. He clutched his stomach and curled over, his shoulders shaking. “Stop, it Kevin! Gosh, you can be… you can be so _mean_. I know you’re drunk, but you’re just so mean sometimes, Kevin Price.”

Kevin’s hand reached for the grass to support himself as he laughed. Then he gasped as he felt something shift in his stomach. “Oh.”

“Sometimes I think you’re _trying_ to destroy everything in your life.”

“Connor, I’m going to-”

“I can’t believe you would even… after everything you- Kevin!”

Connor leapt back as Kevin heaved onto the grass, throwing up beer and the soda crackers he and Nabulungi had been eating all night. The bile burned his throat and made his mouth taste like stale beer, and suddenly Kevin wasn’t having such a good night.

“Oh, gosh,” Connor said somewhere behind him. Kevin felt a hand on his forehead, trying to scrape his too-long hair out of his face as he heaved a second time. “You are so drunk.”

Kevin’s arms were shaking. He panted and squeezed his eyes shut. His head hurt.

“Are you done?” Connor asked. He was rubbing Kevin’s back. It felt nice.

“I- I think so.”

“Sit down.”

They scooted away from the pile of vomit, back towards the trunk of the tree. Connor sat back against it and Kevin slumped against him. After a moment, Connor brought his arm up and wrapped it around Kevin, and Kevin sighed in relief. He felt more stable when Connor was holding him, and when Connor forgave him.

“I’m sorry,” Kevin said quietly.

“It’s alright.”

“I’m sorry that I threw up,” Kevin said. “And that I’m so mean.”

“It’s okay, Kevin.”

“I wasn’t trying to be mean.”

Connor’s nails were dragging idly up and down Kevin’s arm, the motion lulling Kevin further towards sleep. He was feeling markedly more sober now that he had thrown up most of the beer he’d had that night, but Connor didn’t know that, so if Kevin pressed himself closer to Connor and tucked his head onto Connor’s shoulder- well, he could just chalk that up to drunken clinginess.

“I don’t want to be mean,” Kevin whispered.

“I know you don’t. We’ll work on it.”

Kevin hummed in response and let himself float away, wrapped up in Connor Mckinley’s warmth. He was so far gone that he wouldn’t notice later on when Connor spurred him into a standing position and half-carried him to the house, to his room, and laid him down in his own bed, drawing the covers up over him, and he wouldn’t remember when Connor Mckinley stared down at him and whispered, “Damn you, Kevin Price.”

XXXXX

The living room was silent. Kevin was curled up on the couch with Arnold lying almost fully in his lap, splayed out like a starfish who had just gone through the wash. Kevin shut his eyes and tried to ignore the drums beating behind his skull.

The other Elders were spread similarly throughout the room. Elder Church was on the floor using the sofa as support beneath Kevin and Arnold, staring unblinkingly at the wall. Elder Thomas was lying facedown on the carpet. Somewhere behind them, Elder Michaels was moaning. Only Elder Zelder and Elder Neeley were up, eating breakfast at the kitchen table and occasionally snickering at their fellows.

Kevin was just about to yell at them to shut up because they were doing very little to help his headache when a new nuisance entered the room.

“Good morning, Elders!” Connor chirped, coming out of the hallway. “Rise and shine! My, aren’t we a little sluggish today?”

Arnold spasmed in Kevin’s lap and buried his face further into Kevin’s thigh. Elder Michaels gave his most spectacular groan yet.

“Come on, let’s start getting up,” Connor said. “We have a lot of work to do today. We need to clean up everything from the party before we head out to work on the church.”

Kevin glared through half-opened eyes as Connor rounded the couch and looked down at him. His eyes were bright and awake, his hair was neatly brushed, and he looked far too put together for Kevin’s taste.

“Fuck off,” Kevin said, and it was a testament to how tired the other Elders were that no one gasped.

“Language,” Connor said mildly. “Come on, Price, we’re getting up.”

“We feel like shit.”

“Pop an aspirin and get over it,” Connor said. “I _told_ all of you that we would be working today.”

“There is no aspirin,” Elder Church said, not taking his gaze off the wall. “Elder Thomas took _all_ of them.”

Connor’s eyes widened. “What? That’s not safe! Elder Thomas!”

“My head hurt,” Elder Thomas said into the carpet, his voice muffled. “I panicked.”

“I made him throw them up,” Elder Church said.

Connor sighed. “Well, we need to clean,” he said, “and it wouldn’t be fair to make Elder Zelder and Elder Neeley do all the work, especially since they were responsible enough to pace themselves.”

More snickering. Kevin leaned his head back and glared at the ceiling, hoping it would get to them.

“I’ll give you fifteen minutes, and then I want all of you on your feet and ready to work. I’ll go see about scrounging up some more aspirin.”

Arnold tried valiantly to push himself up, but just flopped harder against Kevin’s legs. Kevin turned his glare back on Connor to find the other boy grinning at him.

“You’re an asshole,” Kevin said.

“I know,” Connor said. He reached out and ruffled Kevin’s hair. Kevin groaned in protest and moved out of the way, which sparked a vicious throb of his headache. “Call it payback.”

“For what?”

Connor shrugged and walked away. “See you in ten!” he called out. 

XXXXX

Kevin flipped through the Book of Arnold, only half registering the words on the pages. It was close to lights out. Arnold had left for the night to be with Nabulungi. Kevin didn’t mind, but it did mean that he had free time on his hands with nothing to fill it with. So he had picked up the book, less out of a sense of duty and more out of habit, because Kevin Price didn’t know what to do with himself if he didn’t have some sort of codified religion to throw himself into.

Kevin got up to the point where the Enterprise touched down in Uganda and released a swarm of mutant monkeys to plague the villagers, and then dropped it off to the side and pinched his nose. He enjoyed Arnold’s creativity, but it didn’t do him any good when Kevin was just trying to distract himself to pass the time.

Kevin raised his head when someone knocked on his door. Frowning and well aware that he was already in his pajama shirt and shorts, he rolled out of bed and walked over to the bedroom door.

When he opened it he found that he had been expecting this visitor, but he still raised his eyebrows to feign surprise. “Hey, Connor,” he said.

“Hello, Kevin.” Connor looked a bit skittish. His hands were tightly behind his back and his eyes were moving from Kevin’s left ear to his chin to something just above his head. “Can I come in?”

“Uh… sure.” Kevin stepped back and allowed the other boy to come in. “Arnold is, uh, in the shower. He said it would be a long time. You know Arnold, always… showering.”

Connor snorted as Kevin shut the door. “I know Elder Cunningham is with Nabulungi,” he said. “He snuck past my open office door. I watched the whole escape. He’s not very good at stealth.”

“No,” Kevin agreed. He walked over to his bed and sat down on the edge of it. Connor joined him, his hands still very carefully behind his back. “Is something wrong?”

“No,” Connor said. “Actually, I… there’s something I wanted to give you.”

Kevin frowned. “It’s not my birthday,” he said.

“I know. I meant to give this to you earlier this week. At the party, actually. But you were so drunk.”

“I was not.”

“Kevin, how much of that night do you actually remember?”

Kevin hesitated. “Like… some of it.”

“Right,” Connor said, smiling a little bit. “Anyways, I wanted to give this to you as a little anniversary present. I mean,” he said quickly, “your six month anniversary of being in Uganda.”

“Oh,” Kevin said. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“It’s not much,” Connor said. “And, well… okay, none of the villagers had any wrapping paper, so it’s not wrapped. I hope that’s okay.”

“It’s fine, Connor.”

“It’s not much,” Connor warned again. “But… here.”

He brought his hands out from behind his back and pressed something into Kevin’s hand. Kevin stared down at it. It was a bottle of hair gel.

“You… how did you even get this?”

“I bribed Elder Church into writing his parents home and asking for it.” Connor rubbed the back of his neck. His cheeks were red. “It’s probably not the kind you normally use, so it’s okay if you don’t want it.”

“Connor, don’t be ridiculous.” Kevin was smiling. He turned it over in his hands, feeling the weight. “You… I can’t believe you would do this for me.”

“Don’t act like it’s some grand present.”

“It is,” Kevin insisted. He looked up and met Connor’s eyes, hoping that he would understand how grateful Kevin was for the act. “Thank you.”

Connor’s dimple was showing. He shrugged. “You’re welcome.”

Kevin looked at the bottle for a few moments longer and then carefully set it on his nightstand. “What’d you get Arnold?”

Connor blinked. “What?”

“For his sixth month anniversary.”

Connor frowned. “I… didn’t get him anything,” he said. “Oh, dear. Please don’t tell him I got you something.”

“I won’t,” Kevin said. “But… why’d you get me something and not Arnold?”

“Don’t be daft, Kevin.”

“No, I mean it,” Kevin said. He was confused. He knew that he and Connor were friends, but Connor was friends with everyone. He thought that had included Arnold. The two were friendly enough.

“Because you’re my friend, you… silly,” Connor finished, because Connor still had yet to come close to swearing. It made Kevin smile every time he heard him fill his hesitation in with something so ill fitting.

“But you’re friends with everyone.”

Connor frowned at him. “Not really,” he said. “I’m friendly with everyone, but that doesn’t make us friends.”

“Doesn’t it?”

“No,” Connor said. “You’re… you’re the closest friend I have, Kevin.”

Kevin stared at him, dumbstruck. Because never had he dreamt that someone would be saying that to him, least of all Connor Mckinley, the darling of the Ugandan mission.

Connor wrung his hands in front of him. He was staring at the floor. “Sorry,” he said. “That was a little much.”

“No,” Kevin said. “It’s not. I’m just… surprised.”

“Yeah, well.” Connor rubbed the back of his neck. He was still dressed in his trousers and white-button down, sans tie. He had rolled the sleeves up to his elbows. He looked nice like that. He had tanned in the last few weeks, and he had more freckles than ever. Kevin had the inexplicable urge to reach out and take his wrist and compliment his tan. He didn’t.

“I’ll need to get you something in return,” Kevin said, staring at Connor’s nose, which he now noticed was just a little bit crooked at the tip. In a good way, of course. Everything about Connor was in a good way. “To say thank you. That’s what my mother always does. Did.”

“You really don’t have to.”

“Yes, I do,” Kevin said. “What do you want, Connor?”

Kevin stared at Connor’s lips as they opened and then closed. He had nice lips. They were a little bit chapped because of the weather, but nice.

“I don’t know,” Connor said.

It was very hot in the room. Kevin shifted so he was a little bit closer to Connor, his hand resting very close to Connor’s thigh on the bed. His pulse was drumming. Kevin licked his suddenly dry lips, and he felt Connor’s eyes on the movement.

“Yes, you do,” Kevin said, his voice soft. “What do you want, Connor?”

He could hear Connor breathing. Adrenaline was coursing through Kevin’s veins, encouraging him, and he needed to hear what Connor wanted, to know if it matched up with what Kevin wanted, what he had wanted for a long time without realizing it.

“I- I want-” Connor started, but before he could continue, someone outside yelled, “Elder Mckinley!”

Connor pulled away, and even though they hadn’t been touching Kevin already missed his nearness. He watched as Connor hurried to get off the bed, stumbling in his haste, muttering, “I need to go.”

“Connor,” Kevin said, standing up.

“They need me. I should go find out what’s wrong.”

“Connor, wait.” Kevin reached out and caught his wrist, but Connor pulled a face and yanked his hand away. Kevin blinked, hurt.

“Goodnight, Kevin.”

“Connor-”

Connor turned and all but ran from the room, slamming the door shut behind him. Kevin remained where he was, staring at the door handle, wondering how things had gone so spectacularly wrong in such a short amount of time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, thank you so much for all the positive responses to the first chapter! I'm so happy that you're all enjoying this story. Please let me know your continued thoughts below! xoxo


	3. Chapter 3

III

Kevin sat moodily under the tree, glaring through the sunlight at the building site. The Elders were hard at work. The church was really taking shape; the frame was complete, providing the template for the moderately-sized two room building. Now they would get to work putting the walls together and working on the roofs. Everyone was in high spirits about it- everyone except for Kevin, because Connor Mckinley had snapped at him fifteen minutes ago.

Connor had been avoiding him for the past few days, ever since he had given him the hair gel. At first Kevin had just been confused when he had attempted to sit next to Connor at dinner and Connor had leapt out of his chair and declared that he was going to eat in his office so he could get some work done. After that, though, Kevin quickly became annoyed, because whenever he attempted to approach Connor, Connor would blurt out some excuse and run away. And today, when Kevin had approached him with a question as to their supply of wood, Connor had snapped, “Figure it out, Elder Price, I’m busy.”

Now Kevin was mad.

He crossed his arms and glared at Connor’s copper hair, hoping that he would feel the heat of his irritation and look up so Kevin could properly scowl at him. No such luck. Connor was as determined to ignore Kevin as he had been for the past week.

“Kevin Price!” 

Kevin looked up to see Nabulungi picking her way through the brush towards his puddle of shade. She was clutching a hunk of green plastic and grinning wildly at him.

“Look what I just bought at market,” she said, dropping to her knees beside him. “It is a lap top!”

Kevin spared it one glance before turning back to glare at Connor. “That’s a LeapPad, Nabulungi,” he said. “A broken one.”

“No, it is not,” Nabulungi said. “The man who sold it to me told me that he got it shipped from America.”

“Whatever.”

Nabulungi set the LeapPad aside. Kevin watched Connor lean down and fish around in an emptied paint bucket for new nails. 

“He looks stupid,” Kevin said.

“Who?”

“Elder Mckinley.”

Nabulungi sighed. “What did you do now?”  
Kevin scowled at her. “ _I_ didn’t do anything! He’s the one having some kind of- some kind of fit, or something. He’s been ignoring me for days.”

“God forbid somebody ignore you, Kevin Price.”

“It’s not a joke, Naba!” Kevin snapped, because she was grinning in that way she did when she thought he was being silly. “He won’t even look at me anymore. I don’t know what I did wrong.”

“You really cannot think of anything you might have done?”  
“No,” Kevin said. “I mean… no.”

“Hm.” 

“I can’t even try to fix it, though, because he won’t talk to me,” Kevin said. “He doesn’t sit next to me at meals anymore and he won’t let me into his office and he doesn’t come and talk to me  _ ever  _ and he cheered for Elder Church instead of me when we played Chutes and Ladders last night! He cheered  _ against  _ me, Naba!”

“Did you win?”

“Of course I didn’t win! I was too distracted because I wanted to punch him in the face!” Kevin leaned forward and pressed his face into his hands with a groan. “He’s being dumb.”

“Maybe it’s not about you,” Nabulungi said. “Maybe there is something else that is making him upset?”

“No, it’s probably me,” Kevin said. “It’s always me, isn’t it?” 

“Why are  _ you  _ so upset about this, Kevin?”

“Because he’s ignoring me.”

“But why does that upset you?”

“Because… what?”

Nabulungi shrugged. “I am just wondering why it is that you are so very distraught over this boy annoying you.”

“Because… he’s my friend,” Kevin said lamely.

“And?”  
“And I miss him, okay?” Kevin snapped. “What do you want me to say? I miss him and his stupid jokes and his smile and the freckle on his earlobe and what are you laughing at, Nabulungi?”

Nabulungi’s face was bright. “You are smitten, Kevin Price.”

“I am not smitten.”  
“Yes you are. You talk about him the way that Arnold talks about me. Although you are perhaps a touch angrier about it.”

Kevin wanted to argue, but there was no use. Nabulungi was right. Of course she was right. It had taken Kevin awhile to realize it, but he hadn’t been surprised by it. 

“It doesn’t matter,” Kevin said, staring out across at Connor, whose back was to him. “The one time I thought that… I thought that something was going to happen, we got interrupted, and then he panicked and hasn’t spoken to me since.”

“Ah,” Nabulungi said. “So he is upset because you did not kiss him.”

“No,” Kevin said. “He’s upset because I was going to kiss him. He obviously doesn’t  _ want  _ me to kiss him.”

Nabulungi snorted. “Don’t be a dumbass.”

“He obviously doesn’t like me that way,” Kevin said, “and maintaining any kind of feelings towards him is stupid and masochistic and I should probably just get over it and move on and, I don’t know, go and make out with a rock or something, because the likelihood of having a relationship with a rock is more likely than Connor Mckinley ever wanting to be with me and-”

Nabulungi smacked him on the back of the head. Kevin winced and rubbed the injured spot. “Hey,” he said, hurt.

“What did I say about being a dumbass?” Nabulungi asked. “Of course Connor Mckinley likes you back. Are all of you Mormons blind to one another?”

“He… he does?”

Nabulungi smacked him again. “Hey!” Kevin exclaimed. 

“Dumbass,” Nabulungi said. “He looks at you like you are the moon in a dark night.”

“He does?” Kevin felt a flare of pleasure in his chest at the thought.

“Do not let it get to your head.”

Kevin leaned back against the tree and turned his gaze once more to Connor, feeling a buzz of excitement settling through him. Connor Mckinley  _ liked  _ him. Maybe. And now…

“What am I going to do?” Kevin asked. “He still won’t talk to me.”

“Do what Arnold did for me,” Nabulungi said.

Kevin groaned. “I am not going to baptize him,” he said. “That’s disgusting, Nabulungi.”

“No,” Nabulungi said, glowering at him. “ _ Woo  _ the boy, Kevin Price. Make him feel special. Make him pull his head out of his ass.”

“Huh,” Kevin said. Woo him. Kevin could do that. Kevin could woo someone. He could woo a boy.

“Elder Price?” 

Kevin and Nabulungi looked up at Elder Thomas scrambling up the hill towards them. He had knotted his tie around his forehead in a kind of makeshift sweatband; his cheeks were red and sunburned. “Elder Mckinley sent me to tell you that your break is over,” he panted.

Nabulungi snorted. Kevin just rolled his eyes. 

XXXXX

Operation ‘Woo Connor Mckinley’ wasn’t going well at all. Kevin’s attempts to get close to Connor had only redoubled the other boy’s efforts to avoid Kevin, and it didn’t help that Nabulungi had told Arnold about the whole thing, and now Arnold erupted into a fit of uncontrollable giggles every time Connor and Kevin were in the same room together.

When Connor was chopping vegetables, Kevin came up behind him and commented on how good he was at cooking.

Connor jumped and nearly sliced his thumb off, and then shouted at Kevin for five minutes about knife safety. 

When Connor was reading the Book of Arnold on the couch, Kevin sat down next to him, so close that their knees were touching, threw his arm across the back of the couch, and commented that chapter five was his favorite, too.

Connor muttered something about laundry and tripped over the coffee table in his haste to get away.

Kevin was getting discouraged. He had been trying to make a move for days, and not only did Connor appear uninterested, he appeared to be actively uncomfortable with Kevin’s efforts. He had just been ready to give up and go find a rock to confess his feelings to instead when Elder Church called him over one night.

“C’mere, Elder Price,” he said, gesturing into the hallway with his head. Curious, Kevin stood and followed him into the bathroom, where Elder Church shut the door securely behind them.

“Elder Michaels?” Kevin asked. Elder Michaels looked up from where he was sitting on the toilet seat and waved at him with a smile. 

“Look.” Elder Church crossed his arms, his back to the door. He was shorter than Kevin, but he looked quite intimidating in the tiny space. “We know what you’re trying to do with Elder Mckinley.”

Kevin blinked at him, then looked at Elder Michaels, who was ripping up a sheet of toilet paper awkwardly. “Are you guys… threatening me?” Kevin asked.

“What? No,” Elder Church said. “We want to help you.”

“It’s really depressing to watch,” Elder Michaels said.

“Oh,” Kevin said. He frowned. “Hey.”

“You need to stop sneaking up on him and thinking that you’re being smooth,” Elder Church said.

“Because you aren’t,” said Elder Michaels. “And it’s freaking him out.”

“Do you guys have a better idea?” Kevin scowled.

“I propose a more direct approach,” Elder Church said. “Get in with business, and try to get close to him that way.”

“What does that mean?”  
“Here.” Elder Church reached into his pocket and pulled out a razor. He handed it to Kevin. “I borrowed this from Elder Mckinley,” he said. “Give it back to him. Be direct about it. He’ll _have_ to talk to you, and when he does, that’s when you try to make your move.”

“But be better,” Elder Michaels suggested.

Kevin stared down at the blue razor, then looked back at Elder Church, who still looked mildly threatening. “Why are you helping me?” Kevin asked.

“Elder Mckinley has been moping around for weeks,” Elder Church said. “It’s getting unbearable. If you can get through to him, I will personally plan your wedding.”

Elder Michaels cackled as Kevin left the bathroom with red cheeks. 

The next day, just before dinner, Kevin approached Connor’s office. Elder Neeley was on food prep, so Connor had retreated to go and ‘get some work done.’ Kevin had no idea what kind of work that could be, because they weren’t much of a district anymore and Connor, as Kevin liked to tease him, wasn’t much of a district leader anymore.

Kevin stepped up to the closed door and knocked. After a moment it opened, and Connor greeted him with first a smile, which promptly fell, and then grew into a forced smile again. 

“Elder Price,” he said. “I’m busy.”

“I know,” Kevin said. “Elder Church asked me to return this to you.”

He held out the razor. Connor stared at it. A few seconds passed. Kevin waited patiently, and then cleared his throat.

“Oh,” Connor said. As he took it, his fingers brushed Kevin’s palm. His cheeks were pink. “Thank you for returning it, Elder Price.”

“You’re welcome,” Kevin said. Connor was about to shut the door, and Kevin, thinking wildly, said, “I would like to make an appointment with you.”

Connor frowned. “About what?”

“An idea,” Kevin said. “For the church. I had an idea that I wanted to run past you. The district leader. So I wanted to make an appointment with you to talk about it.”

“Alright,” Connor said slowly.

“You gave us the afternoon off tomorrow,” Kevin said. “Can I drop by then?” 

“Oh,” Connor said. “I, uh, wouldn’t want you to give up your day off.”

“It’s alright,” Kevin said. He beamed at Connor, who stared at him. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Elder Mckinley!”

He turned and bounced away down the hallway, well aware that Connor was probably glaring at his back as he retreated.

XXXXX

Kevin knocked on the door again, convinced that Connor would just go on ignoring him and never let him in. He was just about to start banging on the wood and demanding that Connor stop behaving so immaturely when the door cracked open.

“Elder Price,” Connor said. He wasn’t looking at Kevin. “Come in.”

Kevin trailed Connor into the office. He turned to shut the door, but stopped when Connor said, “Leave it open, please.”

Kevin, his back to Connor, rolled his eyes. Then he turned around and sat in the wooden chair facing Connor’s.

Connor’s office was less of an office and more of a broom closet that someone had shoved a desk into. It was littered with papers and books and color-coded schedules that he had taped onto the wall. There wasn’t a personal item to be seen, except for a tiny glass paperweight in the shape of a cross. 

“Alright,” Connor said stiffly, laying his hands on the desk. “What is your idea, Elder Price?”

Kevin leaned back in his chair, trying to look cool and casual. He had opened Connor’s hair gel for the first time this morning, slicked his hair back in what had once been his characteristic swoop. He grinned cheekily and said, like he and Arnold had rehearsed: “Carpets.”

“Carpets,” Connor repeated, his voice dry.

“Not just any carpets, though,” Kevin said. “Cool carpets.”

“Cool… carpets.” Connor cleared his throat, primly straightened the paperwork in front of him, and said, “Please don’t waste my time, Elder Price.”

“I’m not wasting your time,” Kevin said, feigning hurt. “I just thought it would be nice to carpet the church, because the villagers don’t have a lot of carpet around here. Do you not like my idea?”  
He could visibly see Connor’s irritation in the set of his jaw. Kevin was teasing him and he knew it, preying upon his district leader responsibilities. Kevin wondered whether he would play along or yell at him.

“No,” Connor said. “I think your idea… has merit.”

Kevin beamed. “Great,” he said. “I had a lot of ideas about the different colors of carpet we could do. Red carpets would be nice, because that would pair well with the kind of wood we used. Blue would be nice because it’s a cooler color, and it’s so warm here that it could be a welcomed break. What’s your favorite color, Elder Mckinley?”  
“Irrelevant.”

“Mine is green,” Kevin said. “Dark green, though, not neon green. I hate neon colors, they’re too obnoxious. They remind me of my brother. Aren’t you supposed to take notes during official meetings, Elder Mckinley?”  
Kevin stared at Connor. Connor stared at Kevin. Slowly, Connor reached out to grab a piece of paper and a pen, his lips pursed. 

“Make sure to write down your favorite color, too,” Kevin said as Connor started scribbling on the page. “That could be important later. Oh, do you think we could get shag carpeting? Like they used to have in the 70s? Or would that be too hard to take care of?”  
Kevin waxed poetic about carpeting for the next fifteen minutes. Connor wordlessly took notes. Then, at the end, Kevin said, “Actually, you know what? I changed my mind. I think tiling might be better. Far less maintenance, don’t you think?”

The sound of pen scratching on paper was sharp. Connor was clutching the pen so hard his knuckles had gone white. 

“I’m supposed to go and meet with Elder Cunningham about a project we’re working on for the village,” Kevin said. “But I just got a ton of new ideas about tiling. I’d like to make another appointment with you. When are your office hours?”  
“Kevin,” Connor said through gritted teeth.

“No, you know what? I’ll just wake up extra early tomorrow and stop by before breakfast. That way we don’t have to disrupt any of tomorrow’s work.” Kevin stood up and grinned broadly at him. “Thank you so much for your time, Elder Mckinley. It really means a lot to be able to share my ideas for this community with the district leader. I’ll see you tomorrow!”

He turned and skipped out of the room. Behind him, the door slammed shut.

Elder Church was waiting in the living room for him, playing a round of solitaire by himself. He looked up at Kevin and smirked. 

“How did the appointment go?” he asked.

“Oh, it was very productive,” Kevin said. “So productive that I had to schedule another for tomorrow morning.”

Elder Church laughed as Kevin walked away. “You’re evil, Elder Price.”

XXXXX

When Kevin knocked on the door for his fourth appointment, he was surprised when it opened immediately. Connor usually made him wait for a while before letting him in.

Connor was flushed when he peeked out and scowled at Kevin. “Not now, Kevin.”

“But I made an appointment,” Kevin said. “It’s really important.”

Connor glared at him, and Kevin wondered, not for the first time, if Connor had finally snapped.

Then he yanked the door open and said, “Get in.”

Kevin trotted inside and sat demurely in his usual seat. Connor stomped around his own desk and sat down, shoving a pile of papers out of the way. Kevin raised an eyebrow as a few of them fluttered to the floor. 

“Go,” Connor said.

“I think the church could use a chandelier.” 

“Right.” Connor took out a pen and wrote it down on the back of a form. “Duly noted. Let’s make another appointment for tomorrow.”

Kevin frowned. “I’m not done.”

“Yes, you are. Go away.”

“That’s not very polite, Elder Mckinley. Don’t you remember the first rule of being district leader? Always be polite, because God said-”

“Kevin Price, I swear to god, if you’re not out of this room in the next thirty seconds I am going to impale you with this pen.”

Kevin blinked, because Connor had never threatened anyone before. “Are… are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” Connor snapped. His cheeks were bright red and blotchy. “I’m great. Fantastic. Just peachy. Now please  _ leave  _ and go do whatever plotting you need to get done and then come back and harrass me tomorrow, because I need to get some  _ fucking  _ work done.”

Kevin stood up, moved to the door, and shut it. He turned back around and stared at Connor, who dropped his pen on the desk and glared at him.

“Elder Price,” he growled. “Get out.”

“No.”

“That was not a  _ request _ , Elder Price!”

“Connor, what’s going on?”

“That’s Elder Mckinley to you.”

“Don’t be dumb,” Kevin said.

“Don’t  _ call  _ me dumb!” Connor got to his feet, chair screeching angrily on the wooden floor. “You… you have been barging in here and trying to make me angry for days, and it’s worked! Congratulations! You finally cracked me, Kevin Price! Go run off and laugh with Arnold and Nabulungi and everyone else in this fucking house.”

Kevin crossed his arms. “I’ve had to come in here and  _ bother  _ you because you’ve been ignoring me.”

“Maybe I’m ignoring you because I don’t want to talk to you! Have you considered that, Kevin? Or is the thought of someone not hanging on your every word like you’re some golden mouthpiece for God himself too impossible for you to fathom?”

Kevin grit his teeth, telling himself that he couldn’t get angry, that he had to be the stable one right now, because Connor clearly wasn’t. “Connor,” he said, “obviously you’re very upset-”

“Yes I’m upset you- you-” Connor gripped his hair in his hands. “You think you’re the center of the universe, Kevin Price.”

“I do not.” Kevin stepped forward, wanting to reach out to Connor, but Connor stepped away from him, edging back towards the wall. 

“Yes, you do! You think everything in this fucking world revolves around you. You think  _ I  _ revolve around you, but I don’t!”

“Would you stop screaming at me for just a second? We need to talk about-”

“Shut UP!” Connor yelled. “For once in your life, shut UP Kevin! We don’t need to talk about anything. I don’t want to talk to you.”

“You don’t mean that.” 

“Yes I do,” Connor snarled. “I never want to talk to you again.”

Kevin narrowed his eyes. “Look, Connor,” he said. “Just because you’re wrapped up in some kind of- of gay crisis-”

“Excuse me.” Connor’s voice had gone deadly calm.

“Just because  _ you  _ can’t figure out your own fucking emotions, doesn’t mean that you get to take it out on me.”

Connor’s shoulders were heaving. His freckled face had gone the same shade of red as his hair. “Get the hell out of my office, Price,” he said in a low voice. 

“Fine,” Kevin snapped. “Have fun turning yourself off.”

He reached for the doorknob and flinched when something heavy hit the wall next to him. Wordlessly, he stared down at the paperweight that had fallen to the floor. The cross blinked back up at him. He could hear Connor behind him, hear his shaky breathing, and a part of him wanted to turn around and try to fix this.

Kevin curled his fingers around the doorknob, opened it, and marched out into the hall. He didn’t bother shutting the door behind him. Connor would have to do it himself.

The living room was quiet when Kevin stomped in. It was just after dinner and the other Elders were playing Go Fish at the table, but they had stopped to stare at Kevin with wide eyes. They had probably heard the whole thing.  _ Good _ , Kevin thought viciously. Maybe now they would leave him alone.

“Kevin.” Arnold got up from the table, laying his cards down. “Do you want to go and talk?”

“No,” Kevin said, his voice deceptively calm. 

“Elder Price.” Elder Michaels was frowning at him. “Are you okay?”  
“I’m fine, Elder Michaels,” Kevin said. He smiled at him. “Thank you for the concern, though. I’m sorry I interrupted your game.”

Kevin turned and walked towards the door. Chairs screeched as the Elders stood behind him.

“Elder Price,” Elder Neeley said, “don’t go out, it’s raining.”

Kevin opened the door.

“It’s alright,” he heard Arnold murmuring behind him. “Just give him time to cool off.”

Kevin stepped outside onto the porch and shut the door. It was raining lightly, hardly more than a drizzle. Kevin walked down the steps and lifted his face up to the sky, feeling the cool water on his cheeks. It felt nice. It hadn’t rained here in months.

He started walking, setting blindly off down the path. His anger was slowly fading into a pulsating emptiness. He breathed and clenched his fists and walked, moving one foot in front of the other, and every step he took away from the house and the other Elders and Connor helped him breathe a little bit easier.

He felt stupid. So stupid. Because all this time he had figured that even if it was annoying for a while, if Connor liked him back, then they would eventually get together. But Connor didn’t like him. He didn’t want to talk to Kevin ever again, in fact. Not only had Kevin embarrassed himself, he had lost a friend. Which brought his official friend count back down to two, if Arnold and Nabulungi weren’t too appalled by his fuck up to allow him to hang out with them still.

Kevin pressed the rain-slicked palms of his hands to his forehead and tried to keep his breathing calm. It was raining a little bit harder now. It was raining, he was in Uganda, his family hadn’t spoken to him in months, and the boy that Kevin loved didn’t love him back.

Kevin passed the church and hesitated, debating taking shelter there. But the wood piles and buckets of nails all reminded him of Connor, so he kept walking. His thin shirt was drenched and his loafers were hardly made for walking, let alone walking in the rain, but he kept going, clutching at his own arms as his breathing picked up, and god, there was that familiar chest-clenching fear that hit Kevin at the worst of times. 

A villager Kevin didn’t recognize ran past him with their shirt pulled over their head to try and shield themselves from the rain. Kevin stepped wordlessly aside as they sprinted past, kicking up mud with their bare feet. Kevin watched, curling his fingers and letting his nails dig into his palm. 

He turned and picked his way off of the path. There was a clump of bushes that wouldn’t do very much to hide him, but they would have to do. Kevin wasn’t sure what he was hiding from, but he felt better when he sat down behind them, his trousers digging into the mud, and he felt better when he let out his first panicked sob.

Kevin drew his knees up to his chest. The bush’s branches were digging into his back. He curled up on himself, letting the rain hit the back of his neck and his shoulders and everywhere, and pressed his face into his knees and let his breathing run away from him. 

He wanted to go  _ home _ .

He could taste the rain. It tasted different from the rain at home. Less bitter. Probably because there weren’t as many pollutants in the air. Kevin’s shoulders shook and he was struggling to breathe, and for one panicked moment he wondered if he was drowning. Then he decided that drowning in the rain wasn’t such a bad way to go. He could embrace that, actually. Perhaps the others wouldn’t find his body for a while and he could get some peace.

When Kevin had been small, really small, back before he had been told that boys didn’t cry, his mother would soothe his fits with cold hands on his cheeks and snatches of a song that Kevin could never remember afterwards. She would wipe his tears with the sleeve of her sweater and rock him back and forth and hum, and Kevin would feel calm starting to set in. He missed that. He missed it so much it hurt. 

He heard sounds on the road behind him, and moved closer to the bush to hide. He pressed his hands over his ears to block the noise out. It was probably more villagers running to find shelter. Couldn’t they let him have his meltdown in peace?  
Kevin almost yelled when a hand touched his shoulder. He opened his eyes and squinted through the rain up to find Connor standing there, drenched from head to toe, a look of express relief on his face.

“Kevin,” he said, dropping to his knees in the mud beside Kevin. His red hair was plastered down with rain. It looked dark when it was wet, almost brown. 

Kevin was crying. He turned away and swiped at his eyes, but his face was wet with rain and tears and he didn’t know which was which.

Connor reached out and gently touched his cheek. His hand was warm. “You’re such a drama queen,” he said, a small smile on his face.

“What are you doing here?” Kevin choked out. Connor’s thumb dragged along his cheekbone, his touch gentle, and Kevin liked it, but it made those same confused emotions rise in his stomach. 

“The others said you had run out into the rain,” Connor said. “I knew you were stupid, but I didn’t think you were  _ this  _ stupid.”

Kevin reached up and pushed Connor’s hand away. “Stop it,” he said thickly. “Go away.”

Connor frowned. “Kevin,” he said.

“I get that you don’t like me,” Kevin said. “I’ll stop bothering you, alright? Just…”

Connor’s hands were on both of his cheeks now, and Kevin didn’t have the strength to push him away. He sniffed loudly.

“Can we still be friends?” 

“Kevin,” Connor said. He was close to Kevin now, so close, and it hurt. “I… don’t think we can.”

Kevin went still. He stared at Connor, shocked out of his crying. There was a sad expression on Connor’s face. Rain was clinging to his eyelashes. “What?”

“God, Kevin.” Connor’s eyes were roving his face, not settling on any one feature in particular. “I tried. I tried so hard to be your friend. But it’s… I can’t do it.”

“Do I annoy you that much?” Kevin asked, feeling incredibly small. He hated feeling this way, hated it more than anything. If this was what having feelings felt like, Kevin would promise to never have feelings for anyone ever again.

“No,” Connor said. “No, you don’t annoy me at all, Kevin. Well… you are a bit annoying, but that’s not it. I can’t be friends with you because I will always want more.”

Kevin frowned. Connor’s hands had moved to cup his jaw. “What?”

Connor swallowed. Kevin could see his Adam’s apple bob in the rain, and his fingers curled against Kevin’s jawbone. “I’m gay, Kevin,” Connor said. Then he laughed a bit, but it came out more of a slow exhale. “God. I’m gay.”

“I know that,” Kevin said, and Connor laughed harder.

“Yes, you do,” Connor said. “And thank you for still being my friend despite it.”

“Connor,” Kevin said, “I don’t understand.”

“I have feelings for you, Kevin Price,” Connor said, looking at him with an expression so sad it broke Kevin’s heart. “And I can’t… it hurts, Kevin. It hurts to be so close to you yet unable to…” 

Kevin blinked. “You… have feelings for me?”

“Yes.”

“Like… gay feelings?”

Connor sighed. “Yes, Kevin, I have gay feelings for you,” he said. His thumb brushed the tip of Kevin’s chin, like a goodbye. “Very unfortunate gay feelings for you.”

He started to pull away. Kevin reached up with both of his hands and cupped Connor’s, stilling them. Connor stared at him. When Kevin had ensured that Connor’s hands would remain on his face, he slowly reached out with his own, touching Connor’s collarbones beneath his drenched shirt, moving up Connor’s neck, touching his jaw. 

Connor’s eyes were wide. “Kevin…?” he said. It came out a question.

Kevin leaned forward. Connor’s hands fell from his face. Kevin, his fingers trailing upwards to tuck Connor’s wet hair behind his ear, looked at Connor’s crooked nose, his nice lips, the way his hair fell flat in the rain.

He leaned forward and pressed his lips against Connor’s. Connor made a sound of surprise, almost a whimper, as Kevin shut his eyes and tilted his head and pushed against Connor’s lips. They were wet and slippery from the rain and chapped underneath Kevin’s and when Kevin rested his hand on Connor’s shoulder to steady himself, Connor didn’t try to run.

Kevin pulled back, breathing heavily. Connor’s eyes fluttered open. “I have gay feelings for you too, Connor Mckinley,” he said in a quiet voice.

Connor’s brow furrowed. He had one hand on the crook of Kevin’s elbow, and he squeezed it, as though checking to make sure Kevin was real. 

“I thought you were straight,” he said uncertainly.

“So did I,” said Kevin. “But straight guys don’t wish that their district leader would kiss them again, do they?” 

And the smile that spread across Connor’s wet face was worth all of the sleepless nights Kevin had spent worried about this. 

Connor’s hands slid up and around Kevin’s shoulders, and then Connor was pushing him forward into another kiss. Kevin fell backwards into the mud, Connor on top of him, and pressed just as fiercely upwards into the kiss as Connor was. Kevin’s fingers dug into the mud next to him as Connor moved his lips, kissing downwards from Kevin’s mouth to his chin and along his jaw. Kevin turned his head to the side to give Connor access and moaned when Connor kissed his ear.

“Kevin Price,” Connor said, his voice breathy. “You are incredible.”

Kevin reached up and tangled his fingers in Connor’s hair, pulling him back up for another deep kiss. He lifted his knee and Connor gasped, jerking forward when it brushed against the crotch of his pants, and Kevin smirked and did it again.

“Kevin,” Connor moaned, burying his face in the crook of Kevin’s shoulder, and Kevin just about came right there.

They stayed like that, Connor lying on top of Kevin, face tucked away into Kevin’s neck. Kevin brought one muddy hand up and rubbed Connor’s back, letting his hand stray. The rain beat down on them, and it was getting cold, but Kevin didn’t mind.

“We’re going to get the flu,” Connor muttered, and his breath on Kevin’s neck made him shiver. He could feel Connor’s smile on his skin. “Kevin.”

“I don’t want to move,” Kevin said.

“I know,” said Connor. “But the others will be worried.”

“They’ll be fine.”

“No,” Connor said. “Apparently you were very concerning when you left. Arnold was almost crying.”

Kevin sighed, because he knew that he would have to get up to go and assure Arnold that he wasn’t dead. He pressed a kiss to Connor’s temple, and Connor sighed before crawling off him.

He helped Kevin get to his feet, and they stood there, grinning at each other for a moment. Connor’s hair was tangled and Kevin could feel water pooling in the soles of his shoes. 

“You look like shit,” Kevin said.

“So do you.”

Kevin reached out and rubbed a streak of mud onto Connor’s cheek, like a racing stripe. Connor laughed and tried to rub it off with the back of his wrist. 

“Stop,” he said.

“You’re cute.”

“Kevin, stop. We need to go back.” 

They set off along the trail, retracing their steps back to the house. The rain hadn’t lightened and a brisk breeze made it very chilly, but a few minutes into their walk Kevin grabbed Connor’s hand and twined their fingers together, and Connor squeezed his hand, so things weren’t that bad. 

They let go of as they mounted the steps to the mission house, taking a moment to shake their hair out and brush off their clothes the best they could before they opened the door. Connor walked in first, leaving Kevin to slink in behind him and try to not look as embarrassed as he felt about his overdramatic departure. 

“Kevin!” Kevin stumbled back as Arnold threw himself at him, wrapping him in a hug without a care for all the rain and the mud he was exposing himself to. Kevin laughed and patted his back.

“Hey, Arnold.”

“I was so worried,” Arnold said, pulling back and searching Kevin’s face. It was so warm inside the house that Kevin began to notice how cold he was. “Are you alright?”  
Kevin glanced at Connor, who was watching with a small smile off to the side. His hair was beginning to curl, and Kevin wondered with glee if Connor’s hair was actually as straight as he styled it to be. “I’m fine.”

Arnold blinked, then looked at Connor. His mouth fell open. Before he could say anything, Connor cleared his throat and said, “I’m going to finish up some stuff in my office. You can have the shower first.”

“Thanks,” Kevin said, watching as Connor walked away. The Elders stared at him as he left, and then turned their gazes on Kevin, who just smiled at them.

“What are you so happy about, Elder Price?” Elder Church asked from the couch, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Nothing,” Kevin said, starting towards the hallway. “I just like the rain.”

“Right,” Elder Church said. “It has nothing to do with the muddy handprint on Elder Mckinley’s backside.” 

Kevin’s cheeks burned as he hurried towards the bathroom, ignoring the laughter behind him.

XXXXX

Kevin was playing marbles with Elder Thomas in the corner of the living room when Connor stepped into the room, cleared his throat, and said, “Elder Price.” Kevin’s marble skittered out of his hand as he looked up. 

“It’s time for your performance review,” Connor said, waving the clipboard at him. “Come on.”

Kevin sighed and got to his feet. The performance reviews were new; Connor had announced them yesterday and had spent all day calling them in one by one and holding them for upwards of half an hour to talk to them about the merit and value of their work in Uganda. A ‘check up,’ he had called it with a bright smile at dinner the night before. Kevin didn’t mind, though, because he had given them all the day off in order to get them all done.

Kevin followed Connor down the hall to his office. Inside, Kevin turned and shut the door behind him. “Before we start,” he said, turning back around, “I would like to say in my defense- mmph!” 

He fell back against the door as Connor threw himself at him, catching him in a messy kiss. Kevin’s hip dug into the doorknob as he brought his hands up to Connor’s hips to steady them both. It took him a moment, because even though it had been a week since their kiss in the rain and they had had several more in the dark, secret corners of Uganda, Kevin still couldn’t quite wrap his mind around the fact that  _ this was his _ . 

Connor yanked sharply on Kevin’s hair, and Kevin moaned against his lips. “Stop,” he panted, “doing that.”

“You love it,” Connor murmured, pressing himself against Kevin and dropping his lips to Kevin’s neck. Kevin sighed, letting his head fall to the side to give Connor full access.

“What about,” he said, “my progress report?”

“Your what?”

“My progress report, you- fuck!” Kevin hissed, back arching as Connor bit down particularly hard. 

“There are no progress reports,” Connor said. He dropped lower and sucked lightly on Kevin’s collarbone. Kevin squirmed. Connor was a master with his mouth. “I made them up.”

“You- what?”

“Everyone’s had thirty minutes in here with me,” Connor said. “Which means I get thirty minutes with _you_.”  
“You- hang on.” Kevin put his hands on Connor’s shoulders and pushed him away. Connor scowled as though upset that Kevin had forced him to stop. “You made up fake progress reports and wasted an entire day of work just to have an excuse to make out with me in your office for half an hour?”

“Yes,” Connor said with a huff. “ _ Only  _ thirty minutes, Kevin Price, so let’s go.”

Kevin raised an eyebrow. Connor pursed his lips.

Then Kevin gave him a small shove. Connor, confused, stumbled back against his desk. He frowned as Kevin stepped forward, an impatient look on his face. “What are you- oh my god, Kevin!”

Connor’s cheeks went red as Kevin dropped to his knees in front of him. Kevin looked up, moderately pleased to see Connor looking so embarrassed. He had surged into the more physical aspects of their relationship with a kind of gusto that Kevin had been unable to match, and Connor took far too much delight in watching Kevin become unraveled. It was time for retribution.

“You’ll be quiet, won’t you?” Kevin asked. Connor nodded wordlessly, his eyes wide as Kevin reached out and began unfastening his belt. As Kevin slowly unzipped Connor’s trousers, Connor tipped his head back, his breathing quickening.

Kevin smirked and tugged at his pants. They came down easily. “Jesus, Mckinley,” Kevin said, feeling warmth coming into his own cheeks as he eyed the bulge of Connor’s white undergarments. He swallowed, his throat suddenly dry. “I haven’t even started.”

“You should,” Connor said. 

“I should what?”

Kevin brushed his hand along the front of Connor’s underwear. Connor’s knees bowed slightly, and he moaned.

“ _ Kevin _ .” 

“What do you want me to do, Connor?”

“You’re an-  _ ah _ \- an asshole.”

“How am I supposed to know what to do if you won’t even tell me what you want, Connor?”

“I want you to suck my dick, Kevin,” Connor snapped, and Kevin’s smirk spread into a full grin. “Are you happy? Now stop being such a jerk and-  _ Kevin! _ ” 

And if they were a little bit too loud, it was alright, because no one had the guts to say anything about it afterwards. 

Not to their faces, anyways.

XXXXX

Everything was hot and red. Kevin was on the ground, and he should have known what kind of dream it was from the way the rocks dug into his spine like claws and the heat tugged at his skin. But Connor was on top of him, dressed in all black, and Kevin gasped when Connor nibbled on his earlobe. 

“Connor,” Kevin moaned.

Connor pulled away and looked down at him. His eyes were angry and his freckles were red. Kevin reached out with a shaking hand to touch them, and jerked away with a hiss of pain when they scalded his fingers.

“You’re no angel, Kevin Price,” Connor said. 

Kevin swallowed. He wanted this demonic version of Connor to stop talking and go back to kissing him. As though hearing his thoughts, demon Connor laughed and said, “You’re pathetic.”

“Why are you-?”

“You think that I’m with you because I actually like you, Kevin Price? You think I do this-” Connor dug his knee into Kevin’s crotch, and Kevin gasped. “-because it’s  _ you _ , and not just because I’m gay and you’re the only boy in all of Uganda who will fuck me? You think I’ll still want you when I’m back in America with dozens of better options?”

“I- I don’t-”

“But you don’t care.” Connor bent in close, whispering in Kevin’s ear. Kevin strained to get away, but he found that he couldn’t move his body. “You’ll take anything you can get, won’t you?”  
Kevin let out a cry as Connor licked his cheek. He squirmed, trying to get his body to move, trying to push Connor off, because he didn’t _like_ this demonic Connor, he didn’t like what he was saying at all.

“Stop it- get off of me-”

“Kevin.”

Demonic Connor was touching his shoulders, and Kevin bucked, trying to get him to let go. He squeezed his eyes shut. The ground dug into his back, hard. “Stop it!” he yelled.

“Kevin! It’s me, wake up.”

Kevin opened his eyes again with a gasp. It was dark, and the ground was soft, and there were hands on his shoulders, but their touch was gentle. He blinked, trying to get his eyes adjusted to the dim lighting. There was a shape leaning over him- they were pushing him back against the mattress- and another smaller shape behind them. The small shape made a sound.

“It’s alright, Arnold,” the bigger shape said over their shoulder. “He’s awake.”

Kevin swallowed. He was still breathing heavily. He was confused. Where had the demonic Connor gone?

“Why don’t you go sleep in my room for the night? I’ll take care of him. I promise.”

The smaller shape hesitated. They said something, but Kevin was too focused on the fact that the hands on his shoulders were restricting him, holding him down so he couldn’t move.

“Please, Arnold.”

The smaller shape left. Kevin shut his eyes and tried to will the hands on him away like he had before. “Stop it,” he murmured.

“Alright,” said the larger shape. They lifted their hands, and Kevin exhaled loudly at the sudden relief. “Alright. I stopped.”

Kevin’s heart was pounding. He felt sweaty all over even though he didn’t have a blanket on him. He slowly registered that he was in his room in Uganda, and that should have calmed him down, but his breathing just quickened.

“Kevin?” the voice said. “Are you alright?”

Kevin shook his head, screwing his eyes shut. “Can’t- breathe-”

“Sit up.” The hands were on him again, but this time Kevin didn’t fight them as they slowly lifted him up until he was in an upright position. “Shh, Kevin. It’s alright.”

Kevin blinked and squinted at the shape, and recognized the worried face peering back at him. It was Connor. Not demon Connor. His Connor, with normal freckles and big blue eyes that were filled with concern.

Kevin reached out and grabbed the front of Connor’s shirt, bending forward to try to catch his breath. He was hyperventilating now.

“Connor,” he choked out.

“Shh.” Connor hesitantly placed one hand on Kevin’s shoulder. Kevin shuddered through a breath and tightened his grip on Connor’s shirt. Connor started rubbing slow circles into Kevin’s back, the way he always did when he was trying to calm someone down. “Shh. I’ve got you. Breathe with me, alright? Slowly.”

Kevin could hear Connor’s breathing and tried to match it. Head hanging and shoulders scrunched, he breathed and breathed and tried to focus on Connor’s knee pressed against his and not on the flashes of red and a vindictive smile that lingered from his dream. He hadn’t had a hell dream in so long; he wasn’t used to having to deal with them anymore.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Connor asked.

“No,” Kevin said. And then, “Yes.”

Connor’s hand traveled up and his thumb touched the bump of Kevin’s first vertebrae. It made Kevin shudder, and it should have been a comforting touch, but after his dream it just made him feel sick.

“Stop,” Kevin said.

Connor’s hand dropped. He pulled back and frowned at Kevin through the darkness. “Alright,” he said, his voice uncertain.

Connor was sitting on the edge of the bed. Kevin pulled his knees up to his chest, hunched his shoulders, and stared at his bare feet. 

“We’re leaving in two months,” Kevin said.

“Yes,” Connor said. He shifted on the bed, but didn’t attempt to touch Kevin again. 

“What are you going to do when we get back?”

“Oh,” Connor said. They hadn’t discussed this yet. It had been a topic they had been avoiding for weeks, ever since Elder Neeley had first announced that he was intending on going straight into college when their mission was over. “I’m… not sure. Go home, I suppose.”  
“Right,” Kevin said. “Right, that makes sense.”

“Is something the matter, Kevin?”

“No,” Kevin said. “No, nothing’s the matter. Are you going to tell your parents? About… you know.”

“I don’t know,” Connor said carefully. “I’ll have to test the waters first. Why?”

“I was just wondering,” Kevin said. “If, you know, you would tell them if you want to keep dating boys, if you even want to keep dating boys, I mean- there are lots of gay boys in America, right? Lots more than in Uganda. Or, at least, there are more… out, I guess. In America.”

“Kevin, what on earth are you talking about?”

“The future!” Kevin knew that his voice came out higher-pitched than usual, but he couldn’t help it. “That’s important, isn’t it? We have to think about the future. Tomorrow’s a latter day, and all that, so I wanted to ask if you’re going to tell your parents that you’re going to be dating boys in the latter day.”

“Kevin,” Connor said, and laid his hand on Kevin’s knee. Kevin leaned away, eyes resolutely on the sheets, and Connor’s hand dropped.

“But if you’re going to keep dating boys in the latter day,” Kevin said, and he could feel his eyes growing warm and he scowled to keep tears down. Why was  _ he _ always the one having a meltdown? Why was he always the one who had to make a big deal out of everything? “I would like to know, so I can plan- accordingly- for the latter day.”

“Kevin, you’re making _no_ sense,” Connor said. He sounded a little bit irritated, which wasn’t fair because _Kevin_ was the one having the breakdown. “Are you… are you trying to say you don’t want to see me anymore?”  
“No!” Kevin said, quickly. He swallowed. “Just that, when we get back to America and you have more options, I would prefer to know now if you’re going to… you know.”

“Excuse me.” Connor was definitely irritated now. Kevin carefully didn’t look at him. “No, I don’t know what exactly you’re insinuating.”

“Connor.”

“ _ Kevin, _ ” Connor said. “Are you telling me that you expect me to- what, sleep around, when we get back to America?”

“No.”

“Then what exactly do you mean? Because it sounds like you’re accusing me of being some kind of… no. I’m not going to let you make me say it.” 

“I’m not saying that.” Kevin could feel tightness clawing at his chest again. “I’m just saying that… you have to admit that things will be different in America, now that you’ve come to terms with being gay.”

“Oh, so now I’m just going to throw myself at every boy I meet?”

“No, I’m just saying that I won’t be your only option anymore, and you won’t have to fuck me out of necessity.”

“What the hell is wrong with you, Kevin Price?” Connor snapped. “You’re either a bigger asshole than everyone thought, or your self esteem is dangerously low.”

Kevin didn’t look at him. Seconds passed in silence. Then, Connor sighed. “It’s the second one,” he said. “Gosh, Kevin, you’re… ridiculous.” 

Kevin tucked his chin on his knee and blinked, trying not to cry. “I know,” he said. “I’m sorry.”

“Is that what your dream was about?” Connor asked. 

“Kind of.”

“Alright,” Connor said. “I guess we’re doing this now, then.”

Kevin chanced a look at him. Connor’s gaze had wandered upwards, towards the ceiling. His nose was scrunched and he looked upset, and Kevin stared at the slope of his neck.

“I like you, Kevin Price,” Connor said, “and not just because of whatever it is your dream manufactured. I liked you when you were unattainably heterosexual, when I thought that after all my pining, you would run off and marry some Mormon woman that would be just as perfectly beautiful as you and have an unattainably heterosexual life without me. I liked you so much it almost killed me, Kevin. And I still like you that much, gosh, probably even more, now.” 

Kevin blinked back tears. “I like you, too,” he said lamely.

“I would hope so,” Connor said. It lacked any heat. He reached out and nudged Kevin’s knee. “And I’m not fucking you out of necessity, Kevin. I survived twenty years without fucking a single boy, thank you very much. There was no necessity in the first place. I’m fucking you because you’re good at it.”

Connor laughed a bit when Kevin buried his face in his knees, cheeks burning. He didn’t normally get embarrassed about their escapades, but here, in the dark of his bedroom, he felt especially self conscious about it all.

“And if you want to…” Connor trailed off. He cleared his throat. Kevin peeked up again, curious. “If you want to continue… seeing each other… in America. I would… that would be nice. Really nice.”

“You mean, date?” 

Connor smiled ruefully. “Yes,” he said. 

Kevin frowned. “But what if you meet someone better?”

“As far as I’m concerned, that person doesn’t exist.”

“Stop flirting,” Kevin said. “I’m being serious.”

“So am I.” Connor reached out and put his hand on Kevin’s knee. Kevin didn’t push him away. “Really, Kevin. I want to date you. I want to be your… boyfriend.” He laughed a bit. “I can’t believe I’m actually saying this. You’ve ruined all my hard work of turning it off.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” Connor said. “I like it much better this way.”

Kevin shifted, pressing his knee against Connor’s hand. “So do I.”  
Connor carefully moved forward, scooting onto the bed until he was lying next to Kevin. When he stretched an arm out Kevin tucked himself into the opening and let Connor wrap his arm around him. Connor sighed, just a bit.

“Kevin,” Connor said. “I think I could be in love with you.”

Kevin’s heartbeat picked up. He stared at Connor’s white night-shirt, felt Connor’s bare feet brush against his. “I think you should move in with us,” he blurted out. “Me and Arnold, I mean. When we go back to America.”

Connor inhaled hesitantly. “Isn’t that… moving a bit fast?”

“Maybe,” Kevin said. “But we can have separate rooms and all that. It’ll be just like living here, except we’ll have Wifi.” Connor’s whole body moved when he laughed, and Kevin smiled. “Besides,” he said, “I think I could be in love with you, too.”

Connor’s hand brushed against Kevin’s side. “Would Arnold be alright with that?”

“Of course,” Kevin said. “I think he’s trying to scheme a way into getting Nabulungi to come back with him, anyways.”

“They might have to get married here,” Connor said. “If she actually wanted to go to America.”

“Arnold’s already mentioned that.”

“Hm,” Connor said. “Do you think she’d do it?”

“I don’t know,” Kevin said honestly. 

Connor took a deep breath. “My parents will be furious,” he said. “They expect me to come home and repent and settle down with a nice Mormon girl. That’s the only way they’ll let me back into the family.”

“Do you want that?”

Connor was staring at the ceiling. Kevin was staring at Connor. “No,” Connor said after a while. “I mean. I want to have a relationship with my family. But I don’t think I can go back to what I was doing before, not after this.”

“After me.”

“After you,” Connor agreed. He rolled his head to the side and smiled down at Kevin. “I want a backyard.”

“We’re kind of on a budget of whatever Arnold’s parents will give us.”

“I know,” Connor said. “Maybe not right away, then. I want a backyard eventually.”

Kevin’s chest felt tight again, but this time, he thought it meant something good. “I want a dog,” he said.

“I would have thought you were a cat person.”

“Just like you thought I was heterosexual.”

Connor squeezed him. “Fair point,” he said. “We’ll have a backyard for the dog, then.”

“I want two dogs.”

“We’ll talk.”

Kevin kissed Connor on the cheek. “I want you.”

Connor hummed, and Kevin felt the noise move through him. “That we can settle right now,” he murmured, and turned his head to kiss Kevin.

And if they were way too loud that night, Kevin didn’t care, because Kevin Price would be returning to America with a boyfriend and a best friend, maybe even two. And he maybe wouldn’t have his family, but he would have Connor and Arnold and Nabulungi and the other Elders, and at this point in his life, that was all he needed. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading, everyone! I'm so glad that you all enjoyed it and I'm so thankful for the lovely comments. Just so you guys know, I'm already writing another McPricely fic, so if you want to read more of my self indulgent Kevin/Connor stories, keep an eye out for them! Again, thank you for all the support, and please let me know what you thought :)


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